#and then fucks off to another work trip.

[gromit]

im just gonna get up.... and wash the dishes already. and be so brave about it. i can do it. 💪

[gorillaxyz]

i will prob never visit the us unless for work reasons bc the thought of being there scares me more than the thought of flying there. i would love to go though... im just scared

[ofalltheginjoints]

[polithicc]

two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two week until I go on vacation two weeks until

[yoharrysaidshe]

The last two ss being my top 20 but here's my full list if any of u care (first time since like 2019 I'm proud of it enough to share bc its actually quite accurate bc I finally wasn't hacked or harry didn't take up my entire list yayyyy tbh he didn't show up at all wow)

[scottishstoner]

This new “relationship” with my coworker guy is pissing me off he’s totally bizarre sending mixed signals sometimes but being so sweet in real life and when we go out or are at his flat…. At work he’s a different person and he likes to pick fights about stupid shit and he’s scared of commitment so we weren’t labelling things taking it slow (which I prefer to go with it not label it until I’m ready and he is) but we both don’t want to see other people, he’s a gentleman and we have messed around but nothing all the way but now I feel like he isn’t with it with the upset he’s causing me even if he says he feels strongly for me and it isn’t even like he’s using me either….he’s just confused as he’s never been with anyone before (he’s 26 I’m 28) and it’s all new to him and he’s going through a lot in life but so am I and he says some rude things sometimes and I just don’t know if he’s worth this shit but I hate that I still have feelings for him but I might have to forget him because of everything and it just hurts so much

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[anonymous-ivplay]

An ongoing collection of the longest and/or most out-of-context tags on my blog, in no particular order:

[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to <3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 

It almost felt like something a husband would do. 

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 

The ring of his phone was the break. 

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 

Suddenly, you stand. 

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 

He fucking laughs. 

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 

You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 

But he does, of course he does. 

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 

This is going to be miserable, you think. 

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy. 

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 

“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited. 

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…” 

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it���s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 

But it’s you. You’re special. 

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 

But you don’t. 

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 

So he does it again. 

And again. 

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you

: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  

You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.

"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 

Please cut your tongue off. 

Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 

“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."

“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 

“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 

Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.

Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.

"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"

Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.

"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.

"An intern's birthday."

"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"

"July third."

Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."

“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 

"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."

Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 

"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 

“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 

“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"

Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”

“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  

You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.

“Well?” Nanami prompted. 

"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”

Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."

Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"

"Yes."

“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"

"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.

"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"

"Mr. Nan—"

"You are being scammed." 

Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 

But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.

He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.

Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.

With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”

Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 

You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.

What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.

During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.

Toji never showed up.

You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.

The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 

With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.

The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.

As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.

At least that was free. 

Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 

The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.

A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.

“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”

“Good night.”

With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 

You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 

You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.

Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!

Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 

He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 

A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."

“Factually speaking, it is white.” 

You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 

“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 

You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.

"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"

Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.

A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 

You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 

Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.

Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.

And you kissed him back just as needy.

If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.

You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.

Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.

Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.

“I'm gonna—”

“I should—”

Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.

“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.

“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”

“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 

“Night-night.” 

Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 

Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—

A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.

"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.

That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.

The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 

The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.

With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 

Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 

As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 

Anxiety surged through you in an instant.

Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?

A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.

It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—

“Good evening.” 

“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.

But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.

You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.

"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.

Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 

“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 

"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.

“Do your parents live here?” 

You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 

“I apologize.” 

"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”

Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 

“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 

“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 

Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 

“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 

Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"

"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."

Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 

“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 

And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.

"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 

“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 

Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.

Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 

"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."

“What?” 

Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."

Oh, my. 

Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 

He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."

At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.

Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.

You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.

As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 

“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 

“Yes, darling?” 

Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”

Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 

“No,” he said. 

You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 

“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."

"Kento—"

"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."

You could explode. 

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 

As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.

Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 

When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 

Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 

The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 

The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 

He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 

“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 

“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 

Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 

“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 

Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.

"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."

All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 

Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."

"What is it?"

Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.

As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.

Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”

"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.

“Y/N.” 

“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 

He surrendered instantly. 

Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 

You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.

At least, you were both Team Cats.

Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.

Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."

Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.

The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.

So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.

"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.

"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 

Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 

You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."

"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."

Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."

“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.

“Come on now.” 

You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.

Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.

He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 

As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 

Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.

“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 

“I own the building.” 

Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.

“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 

“Yes, it seems so.”

Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 

Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 

“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 

“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 

"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"

"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.

But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 

“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 

“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"

"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.

"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"

He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.

"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"

Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 

You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"

Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."

As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.

Oh, God. 

You loved him. 

You loved him so much.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 

“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 

Your breath hitched. “What?” 

“Move in with me.” 

“Kento—”

“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."

Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.

Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.

[confused-wanderer]

The entire mansion has been baby proofed.

And it doesn’t matter how many times they’ve tried to take them off, or even ban them, somehow they just keep popping back up to everyone’s annoyance.

Jason blames it on Bruce, saying the old man’s going soft on them and basically babying them. It’s him hinting that he doesn’t think they’re capable enough to not bump into or break everything. He accuses Bruce of not trusting them. Dick doesn’t have an answer, but he’s just amused and doesn’t make a move to take them off, which leads the majority of the batfam to think it’s him.

The culprit? Damian.

Damian has seen his family exhausted from shifts. Not to mention the fact that somehow even though he knows they’re some of the smartest and most capable people on the planet he looks up to, they’re also simultaneously the dumbest people that make him suspect that perhaps they weren’t the same people who he’d seen dodging bullets while walking tightropes flawlessly.

And when you work the same hours they do, have the same risks they do, it’s inevitable for someone to simply collapse, because god forbid any single of them weren’t stubborn enough to realise when life -threatening injuries = bedrest and maybe, just maybe = a fucking break.

He’s watched Bruce stumble, head heavy with all the doses of medicines the man had to take before he tripped on air and fell halfway down the stairs. He’s seen Dick nod off in the living room, only for him to accidentally fall over and hit the sharp edge of the table. Stephanie was trying to take off her costume while running for classes, and so she slammed head first into the glass door.

For gods sake, Damian’s pissed Todd’s one to talk because the man was cooking in the kitchen while talking to Roy on the phone and while getting really into the story, he placed his hand on the still hot stove. And picked up the metal container he’d just heated to the point of boiling with his bare hands. The man didn’t realise it, still babbling on to Roy before he sets it down, glances at his hand and then stops when he sees them turning red. And only then, does he let out a quiet “oh…shit.”

Tim’s no better either, he gripped the wrong edge of a knife that he had just put down a second ago. And he wasn’t even doing anything else. Damian just watched in horror and disgust as Tim had just stared at his fingers holding the blade before going “… this is wrong isn’t it? Ow.”

Alfred had caught Damian lugging the questionably large amount of baby proofing material into the mansion the first time, but walked away before he noticed. And Cass helps re-baby proof everything when the batfam try to take them out because Alfred asks her to, and she loves doing it.

Is this him getting soft? Damian? A trained assassin who was taught emotions only served purpose when they fueled your ambitions?

No.

But he had another ambition for now. And so what if his heart flutters when he sees their house-related injuries drastically decrease? So what if there’s a giddy feeling in his chest that warms him to every corner of his soul when he watches them bump against the covered edges, and send a silent grateful look to the sticker?

He had an ambition. He was using these feelings that he’s never felt before, but make him feel so good to fuel himself. He’s doing what he was trained to do. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him.

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, sex for favors, oral sex (f + m receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating, fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, joel being a disgustingly nice gentleman, porn with absolutely no plot A/N: I saw this gif float across my pinterest and had a terribly fun idea... so here it is. Enjoy a lil fun ;)

PART 2 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

“S’all fixed up now,” Joel said, walking into the waiting room.

You had been waiting a few hours to have your alignment fixed and tires replaced, and now you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You were on your way through the small town headed east towards Tallahassee when both of your back tires blew out on the highway. You were lucky not to cause a crash and thankfully found a local mechanic shop only half a mile off the road. 

“Thank you so much,” you exhaled as you stood up and stretched your legs.

Joel rounded the counter to the register, typing up the work order to charge you out. Wallet in hand, you waited for the cost, praying it wouldn’t make a dent in your bank account. You only budgeted so much for the road trip, and this definitely wasn’t in the budget.

“Alright, ma’am, lookin’ like it’s gonna be around $500 for everything. Shaved some off just for the hassle you been through,” Joel smiled.

Shit.

“Uh, okay. Great.”

You reluctantly handed over your card, praying it would be enough. Joel swiped it on his machine followed by a loud beep that clearly meant DECLINED. You let out a shaky breath, fishing through your wallet for another card.

“Shit, try this one,” you said.

Joel nodded, his brows furrowing a bit when it also beeped in the same tone. He slid your card across the table, cocking a brow as if to ask, ‘Got another one?’

“Fuck,” you laughed nervously. “Okay, how ‘bout this one?”

Another card. Another decline. How the fuck were you going to get out of town now?

“Sorry, ma’am,” Joel sighed. “No payment means no car ‘m afraid.”

You ran your hand through your hair in frustration, trying to come up with something. Glancing up at him, you took in his broad frame covered by a simple black t-shirt that seemed to hug the planes of his chest perfectly. You hadn’t even noticed the patchy beard or kind grin that he donned so well earlier. Maybe…

“Look, I gotta get out of here tonight,” you pleaded. “Is there anything I can do to just get my car?”

Joel crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps looking much bigger in that position. With a frown turning down his lips, he shook his head.

“Afraid not, ma’am.”

“Anything? Please, I'm begging you.”

He considered you a moment, his eyes raking over your figure. You felt your cheeks warm at that look, knowing what he might be insinuating. If that’s what it took to get your car and get the fuck out of this town, then why not?

“Anything?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty fucking desperate right now.”

Joel came around the corner of the counter, crowding you until your neck craned up to meet his eyes. Your heart thrummed in your ears, warmth blossoming in your stomach the longer he stared at you. 

“Desperate lil’ thing, huh?” He teased.

Backing away from you, Joel walked to the shop entrance and slowly turned the lock. He looked back at you as he flipped the sign to CLOSED as if testing your judgment. You gave him a meek nod, never letting your eyes off him as he stalked toward you again. His finger ran up your forearm, catching on the sleeve of your top and tugging it lightly.

“Follow me, darlin’.”

That sentiment, followed by the twang of his accent, was enough to make your knees buckle, and you followed him like a dog in heat. Joel led you back into the heart of the shop, scraps of tools and car parts littering the makeshift garage. And right in the center of it all was your car. Leaning against the hood, he patted the metal, beckoning you over. You dropped your purse on the workbench and walked toward him on shaky legs. Joel spread his legs a bit wider as you approached, his fingers wrapping around your belt loops to pull you in close.

You were a breath apart now, just the barrier of clothes separating you. Joel’s hands snaked around your waist and firmly palmed your ass through your jeans. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, kneading and massaging until your eyes drifted shut at the feeling.

“You pay off all your debts this way?” His voice dropped an octave, and you felt the bulge in his jeans prodding against your stomach as you leaned closer.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on my car taking a shit out here and definitely wasn’t budgeting for it either.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Ain’t got a boyfriend to give you some cash to help?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be out here tryna fuck you for my car,” you quipped.

A grin split across his face at your defensiveness, as if he enjoyed you being a brat. You weren’t trying to be— honest to god—but you desperately needed to leave this town, preferably with your car. 

“Y’sure are a bratty little thing,” he said, tugging you closer.

“Why don’t you stop talking so much and fuck me so I can get the hell up out of this small fucking town?” You grumbled.

Joel raised one of his hands to grip your chin, steadying your gaze on his. Sliding his thumb over your lips, he coaxed your mouth open and urged you to suck on his finger. Without breaking eye contact, you swirled your tongue over the skin of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it.

“Christ, darlin’,” he exhaled. “Might just let you suck my cock and send you on your way.”

You released it with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping from your bottom lip. Reaching down, you massaged the bulge in his pants, letting out a soft gasp. He was massive—bigger than expected. He let out a small chuckle as if reading your mind, bucking his hips against your touch.

“You’d give me my car for a little blowjob?” You questioned, squeezing his cock tighter.

“S’nothing little about me, darlin’.”

“Aren’t you just full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes.

Your fingers danced over the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down as he helped pull his cock free. You peeked down to catch a glimpse of it, your eyes growing wide. His cock was girthy and thick and definitely had no shortage of length, either. Precum leaked from the tip, and you wet your lips at the idea of trying to fit it all in your mouth.

“Y’gonna suck it or what? Car ain’t gonna pay for itself.”

“You gonna give me my car after?” You tossed back.

“Maybe,” he grinned. “Those tires might cost you extra.”

“We’ll see about that,” you smirked.

Sinking to your knees, you pulled down his jeans and underwear until he adjusted himself at the tip of your lips. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing softly as you guided it into your mouth. Stretching your lips wider, you swirled your tongue around the tip, basking in Joel's groan as you did so.

“S’fucking perfect, darlin’. That mouth feels fucking amazing.”

 You took him deeper, moving your mouth in a rhythmic motion until you felt his hand come down to grip your hair. He held you steady as he snapped his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further down your throat. Sputtering around him, you dug your nails into his thighs as leverage while he continued fucking your throat.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped. “C’mon now, take this fuckin’ cock down your throat.”

Opening your throat wider, you swallowed every thrust as tears streamed down your cheeks. Joel was relentless with his thrusts, your nose brushing against the curls at the base every time you took him deeper. You could sense he was close to the edge, so you dragged your tongue against the base of his cock with each stroke, spurring him on further. It elicited a primal growl deep within his chest, and within seconds you could feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat. His cock twitched inside your mouth as he came down from his high, and you hummed as you swallowed every last drop.

Using the grip on your hair to pull you off, you sat back on your heels, coughing and heaving to try and catch your breath. Joel looked down on you with heavy lidded eyes and a smug grin as if to taunt you. Cupping your cheek, he slid his thumb against your skin and brushed away the rolling tears.

“Open,” he ordered. “Show me.”

You quirked a playful smile, leaning your head back as you stuck your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all. Slapping your face softly, Joel let out a soft chuckle.

“Atta girl.”

You brushed the remainder of your tears away, wiping the makeup from your eyes, and you stood on wobbly legs. Smoothing down your shirt and jeans, you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a brow.

“I think I earned my car back,” you insisted, your voice hoarse from how hard he fucked you.

“Hmmm, y’think so?” Joel questioned. “I think I deserve a taste of that pussy.”

You shoved at him playfully, rolling your eyes. 

“In your dreams, cowboy,” you laughed. 

With his pants still hanging down, Joel spun you until your ass was pressed against the hood of your car. Working at the button and zipper of your jeans, he shoved them down and pulled your legs free until your bare ass was pinned to the cool metal. Joel gave you a lopsided grin and shoved you further onto the hood.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t return the favor, darlin’.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Oh, but I want to,” he argued. “Gotta see how sweet you taste.”

Sliding down, Joel situated himself between your thighs, tugging your calves up to rest on his broad shoulders. He gave you a teasing kiss on your inner thighs before delving in, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud. You careened back against the hood, your back arching as his mouth suctioned around your clit. Crying out, you carded your hand through the brown curls of his hair, anchoring his face against your wet cunt as it pulsed against his mouth. Joel plunged his tongue inside you, forcing another whine from your lips.

“Fuck!” You cried. “Right there! Oh my god, yes!”

He hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers into the mix as he opened you up, curling them against that sweet spot inside you. Keeping his mouth on your clit he worked in tandem with his fingers until that coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. With one more curl of his fingers, your orgasm surged through your body, forcing a gush of liquid to stream out of your wet cunt. Joel sat back in awe, staring at your glistening folds as your body trembled from the release, your juices covering his beard and mustache. 

“Fuck babydoll,” he grinned. “You a squirter, too?”

You laughed awkwardly and watched as he removed his two fingers and brought them to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Joel groaned as he tasted the remnants of your orgasm. You knew you could squirt—it was your own dirty little secret—but something about seeing him covered in your juices made you want more. Tugging him softly with your calves on his shoulders, you urged him back to your soaked entrance, silently begging for another round. 

“Gonna cover me in your juices again, darlin’?” Joel smirked. 

“Mhmm,” you whined. 

“Drench me babydoll, let’s see it.”

Joel’s mouth was on you again, lapping up the juices leaking out of you until you were crying out for him. He didn’t let up as he sucked your aching clit between his teeth, his tongue working at the bud in earnest. He pushed his fingers back into you, your cunt pulsing violently each time he curled them. Slipping a third finger in, he stretched you wider and moaned against your clit as your body tensed with another orgasm. Another rush of liquid made it past his fingers, soaking his mouth and chin. You could feel it trickle down the seam of your cunt, drenching the hood of your car as you thrashed against it.

“Christ, Joel,” you mumbled, your head lolling to the side. 

He rose to his feet, wiping a hand over the hair covering his chin as he smiled at you. You sat up slightly, positioning yourself on your forearms as you watched him slide his jeans further down his legs. You were already in this deep; you might as well keep going. Spreading your legs a bit wider, you raised a finger to beckon him closer. 

“C’mon cowboy,” you teased. 

“Y’really need that car, huh?” He smiled, lining his cock up to your entrance. 

“I really do,” you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously. 

Joel eased himself inside you, inch by fucking inch, until he was fully seated at the base of his cock. You both groaned in unison, his cock sliding in and out of you easily from all the juice leaking from you. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you pushed him deeper, mewling at the sensation of the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You could feel that stinging stretch of your cunt as he picked up his thrusts, your ass sliding up the car each time. 

“Shit, babydoll,” he growled. “S’fucking tight around my cock.”

“You feel so good, Joel,” you hummed. “Please, I need it harder.”

Listening to your pleas, Joel planted his hands on either side of your face, pistoning into you with brute force. He bent down, sucking and biting the skin of your neck until you were crying out from the pain mixing with the pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, your cunt fluttering against his cock each time. That blinding orgasm was on the horizon as your muscles tensed up for its release. Running your hands up under his shirt, you dug your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down his tanned skin. Joel groaned into your ear, his hips snapping against yours harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “I–I’m gonna fucking cum, Joel!”

“Yeah, babydoll? Fuckin’ soak me with it.”

He pulled out at the last moment, a heavy stream of liquid pouring from your cunt and coating your inner thighs and Joel’s cock. Without wasting a second, he drove back into you, picking up the pace despite your body still shaking and dripping from your orgasm. You could feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face, that warmth still coursing inside you. Joel’s thrusts grew erratic and off-rhythm, and you sensed his orgasm was pushing him to the edge. 

“Y’gonna let me fill that pussy, darlin’?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his voice sent shivers up your spine.

“God, please,” you cried.

With one…two…three final strokes, Joel was grunting and painting your insides with thick bursts of his cum. You both lay there limp and fucked out for several moments, catching your breath and chuckling as reality settled back in. He slipped out of you and drew his pants back up his legs, his eyes roaming over your sweaty body. With one hand, he tugged up the zipper of his jeans, using the other to push the cum leaking out of you back into your wet cunt. 

“Gotta send you off with some sort of parting gift,” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, adjusting yourself and sliding off the hood. Joel bent down to ease your pants back over your thighs and hips, helping with your own zipper as you stood awkwardly in front of him. Joel leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the corkboard hanging from the wall. Retrieving your keys from one of the hooks, he offered them to you with a kind smile.

“I’m free to go?” You asked, reaching for them. 

He pulled them away, shaking his head with a teasing grin. You pouted sarcastically, opening your hand and waiting.

“One kiss, and we call it even, babydoll.”

You grabbed either side of his face, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. You coaxed his mouth open, teasing your tongue over his, tasting your arousal still lingering on his tongue. Joel deepened the kiss, tangling his free hand in your hair to anchor you closer. Pressed up against him, you found yourself thirsting for more but knew you had no obligation to stay. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you pulled away reluctantly and snatched the keys from his hand. 

“Thanks for the new tires, cowboy,” you grinned. 

Joel dazzled you with another gorgeous smile, the lines around his eyes creasing as he gave you one final nod. You squeezed your way out of his embrace, making your way to the driver's side door. He followed you over, opening it like the gentleman he was, waiting till you were situated inside. Leaning in for one more kiss, he lingered a moment too long before breaking away.

“Safe travels, darlin’. If you ever need some work done, y’know where to find me.”

You dug your keys into the ignition, letting the car rumble awake. Joel shut the car door with one final smile and watched you reverse out of the mechanic shop. Giving him a small wave, you turned onto the street and back toward the highway with a soreness creeping up your thighs.

[hellfire--cult]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

wc: 19.2k (it wasn't intended to be this long)

+18, best friends to lovers, rockstar eddie, mentions of drug usage (not abuse), slight mention of steve x reader, jealousy, self-consciousness, reader feels insecure about her body, mentions of skin texture (cellulite, adiposities, stretchmarks, floppiness, sagginess, etc), smut, love making, p in v (protected), fingering, just pure absolute fluff.

Plot: You've been in love with your best friend ever since you can remember, and the hope of ever confessing vanished slowly as he signed a record deal and became a rockstar. His flings were now models, and singers... how can you even compete? Their perfect and smooth skin against your cellulite and stretchmarks? Their bodies completely perky?...But your rockstar kind of explodes with his feelings, out of jealousy, and shows you just how much you don't have to worry about that.

a/n: absolutely self indulgent. thank you to all the beautiful friends that read this, and were in the middle of me making this happen. i love you @munson-blurbs @andvys @ghost-proofbaby @pastel-pillows @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower !

always reblog, don't be lazy

ORANGE PEEL SKIN

Being best friends with a rockstar was not something you ever thought you’d be. 

But you have been friends even before his fame took off before his songs were known. Before his band got called into a prestigious studio back in L.A to record their first-ever demo album. Before his life got turned into a life of luxury and parties. A life he always didn’t believe he would get, but he worked hard to get it, manifested it, and now he is the leader of his rock band.

Corroded Coffin.

With the same three friends from High School, and he was the shining star of it all. He insisted on his bandmates, Jeff, Gareth and Grant to trust him, and they did, ending up with this record deal, and they will forever be grateful to him. 

Now, you, well, you weren’t in the band, but Eddie invited you on tour sometimes, because that’s what being his best friend got you. You often insisted for him not to waste money on your trips, plane tickets, hotel room, and pleasantries, but he never listened. He showered you with gifts whenever he could.

He got you the latest cellphone, designer bags, and clothes, some perfumes, but he never fails to buy you the one thing you like the most in every country he visits, and it’s tiny, yet he always smiles when he gives it to you. Magnets. 

You collected them in your fridge, amazed to see every place he’s been to, knowing that the boy that lived in the small trailer in Forest Hills now brings you magnets from all around the world. The boy you’ve known since you moved to Hawkins. The boy that tried to teach you DnD in the woods at the back of his trailer, but your fourteen-year-old self didn’t care for games. Yet you loved listening to him.

Because you’ve been in love with Eddie Munson ever since you can remember.

But that love is impossible, now more than ever. He never gave the indication he felt the same, and sure you two were close, mentally, emotionally, and physically. You always sit on his lap so he can play with your hair, or you two would greet each other with kisses on the cheeks, or simply hold hands as you two watch a movie together.

Now Eddie being a rockstar, well, you have no chance whatsoever. He had a fling with Miley Cyrus, and you remember it clearly. It was a simple drunk fuck, but it was enough to make you realize that you are certainly not his type. Then he hooked up with another model, and you found out because you saw it on a gossip instagram page.

Your heart broke in pieces when you saw it, knowing the boy you loved for so long so out of reach, yet so close thanks to your friendship. Even if in pain, you could not let him go, not that easily. You just loved him so much, but even you knew it had to be stopped at some point. It couldn’t go on. You will die from a heartbreak sooner or later, and you have to avoid it.

But he makes it difficult, and even more so now that he is taking a break from tour to visit Hawkins so he can see his old friends and Wayne, including you. It’s been four months since you’ve seen him in person, only talking with him through phone and video calls, but very little. He was always busy or going to parties or meeting other bands and singers.

And even if that hurts you, you will never stop loving him. Not really, not ever.

“You okay?”

Your thoughts got cut off as you shook your head to look at Chrissy who was looking at you with a worried look on her face. Your best friend knew about your feelings for the metalhead, and Chrissy has held you many times on nights where you just cried your eyes out because of every call, of every picture, of every rumor you heard of him. 

“Yeah, I am just nervous I guess.” You responded and Chrissy only nodded in a slow motion towards you. You looked around to see everyone gathered in Steve’s backyard, the sunset giving perfect orange hues as Wayne started the fire for some burgers, and Dustin was getting the cooler with beers alongside Mike. 

You couldn’t believe these boys were almost twenty. You didn’t mind that they drink some beers at this age, because who didn’t drink alcohol being below twenty-one? But did time pass by this quickly? When did it happen?

“If you say so.” Chrissy mumbled as she pressed a hand on your shoulder for reassurance. You couldn’t be more grateful for a friend like Chrissy. You really don’t know where you would be if it weren’t for her. Probably crying in every possible corner Hawkins had to give.

“Will you two stop being lazy asses and get the drinks from inside?” Steve yelled and you just rolled your eyes, while Chrissy flipped him off, Robin and Nancy laughing while putting up some balloons and preparing the music. You and your best friend walked inside to get the glasses and the sodas for the night. 

“He seriously needs to stop acting like a mother.” You groaned as you piled up the red cups in your hands, hearing Chrissy snorting behind you as she took the sodas out of the fridge.

“And yet–” And she suddenly went silent. You started hearing cheering from outside and you shut your eyes very tight, wincing slightly at the impending pain that your heart will feel at seeing him. You could already hear his electric voice, all enthusiastic and happy, and it made your heart jump three feet up.

You heard your name being called by Chrissy and it made you open your eyes so you could take a deep breath in, slowly turning around to finally look out the window to see him, your breath being knocked out in one single glance. 

His hair, tied in a bun, scruff on his chin and jaw, curls falling on the sides of his face as he hugged Dustin tightly, swirling him around while the rest of the band greeted everyone else. You didn’t want to be a bitch to the other three, but your eyes could only see Eddie. Only Eddie. A tight tank top with ripped sleeves reveals tattoos that linger across his arms and hands. Black ripped jeans with chains hanging from his waist, and a piercing on his nose, a hoop that glistened with the orange hue of the sunset.

You took a deep breath trying to calm your accelerating heart, trying to not let the blood go all the way to your cheeks, to your body, as you looked at him. It’s not like when you two talk on video calls, it cannot compare.

Chrissy cleared her throat, making you snap out, looking at him with a wild look on your face. She chuckled softly as she walked outside and you immediately heard Eddie cheerfully yell her name, and she was yelling to be careful with the bottles in her hands. 

“You can do this… You can definitely do this. Just keep pretending, everything will be okay.” This was always what you told yourself before seeing him in person. Even at school. You often wondered if you would ever stop these feelings of yours, but even if there was a possibility of them stopping, how do you reach that?

You took another deep breath, getting hold of the stack of red cups you had bought for today, and you rolled your shoulders, once, twice, and finally stepped out into the garden. His back was towards you, so it gave you time to put the cups on the table as you looked at the back of his head. He was talking with Jonathan as Dustin walked over to hand him a beer. 

You could hear his laughter, and you wanted to stay there, yet you also wanted to run away. So far away. But you couldn’t do that now, not when Dustin told Eddie something and then pointed towards you, making him turn around and his brown eyes finally caught onto yours.

Every thought of running away evaporated because that’s what Eddie does to you. He turns you into putty, into his slave, into a submissive prey that will do whatever he commands. Just with him looking at you, and flashing a smile your way as his eyes light up with yours. A smile was immediately drawn to your lips, not pretending, because you loved him, and you didn’t have to pretend to be happy to see him.

Because you were. Extremely so.

He handed the beer to Dustin in a quick manner as he started rushing towards you, making your legs work as well, meeting him halfway in order for his arms to open wide as his smile worked all the way up, face lighting up as he sees you, and you just can’t help the extreme happiness that invades you and fills you the moment he wraps his arms around your frame.

His perfume, his scent, the smell of the shampoo of his hair, everything was engulfing you as well as his hands pressing all over your back, while your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your nose digging into the crook of his neck. He chuckles when he feels your breath on his skin, and you are unaware of the shiver that runs through his spine at the feel of it.

He pulled away with a grin on his face, and that’s when he finally took notice of how you had a different hair color, you two had talked through video call two weeks ago, so it was a very recent change. He straightened up to grab hold of one strand as he raised a playful eyebrow up.

“A new style, Kitty?” 

That damn nickname. It stuck to you when Eddie and you had a school show back in middle school, and he was spared from acting, but you were disguised as a black cat. He made fun of you, of course, but that’s what made you two grow close to one another. 

You fought the heat that was rising up on your cheeks as you giggled and looked down to the floor, giving him a short nod.

“Yeah, wanted to try something new.” He gave a nod to you and you raised your head up to look back to his eyes once more. He was looking at you with fondness as if you were the only light in his path at the moment.

“You look beautiful.”

It wasn’t the first time Eddie complimented you, but it wasn’t easier each time he did it. Your heart always leaped at his comments, always raising a little bit of hope inside of you that you didn’t know if it was healthy or not. He was just your best friend, and your fantasies are just that. Fantasies.

“T-Thanks Eds… I hope this whole rockstar career didn’t make you a wuss with alcohol.” You tried to lighten the moment and it worked as he laughed wholeheartedly at you, shaking his head.

“You are not going to beat me at chugging beer. Last time you almost puked!”

“We’ll see.”

You did not win. You just wanted to see him have fun and laugh as the foam of the beer got out of your nose as you choked on the drink. 

It was a nice night, warm, and the buzz of the alcohol was not too great, just enough to feel funny but conscious. It was nice having Eddie here, and you could notice it around the whole group. Dustin couldn’t stop nerding with him about DnD, and Robin was telling him about how she managed to get Chrissy on a date.

You were laughing with Mike as he explained to you how Nancy almost caught him and Will in the closet and you couldn’t help but wince because you still saw these two boys as little teenagers, and it was weird imagining them in this situation. 

But it seems someone was bored.

“Now that we are older, can you PLEASE play Never Have I ever with us!?” Everyone’s gazes turned to the redhead that had the beer in her hand, moving it from side to side and everyone couldn’t help but burst out in laughter because ever since these kids tried alcohol at the age of fifteen, they’ve been trying to play these games with all the grown-ups. 

“Okay, you guys are old enough. I don’t want any ews, or ahs, okay?” Steve replied and Dustin rolled his eyes at him.

“Same goes for you, Steve.”

And yeah, he was right, because it was going to be weird listening to these kids talk about their experiences with all of you. But whatever, Eddie doesn’t come often, might as well have fun with it.

You all sat around, and you were in between Chrissy and Jonathan while Eddie sat at front in between Robin and Dustin. Max cleared her throat, signaling that she was about to start, and all of you tried to stop the giggling at the whole situation.

“I’ll start. Never have I ever… kissed someone of the same sex.” 

Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and you didn’t drink. Everyone else did. You knew Eddie had kissed guys before, experimenting. The one that everyone turned to look at though, was Steve.

“Seriously Harrington?” Eddie asked, completely surprised and you snorted into your beer as Steve looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What? I never had the curiosity.” Eddie shrugged and took a sip of his beer as Robin came next.

“Okay, okay… Never have I ever… done harder drugs than weed.”

“Low blow Buckley.” Eddie said as he took a sip of his drink, Jonathan followed right behind, making Will look at him with his mouth wide open.

“What!?” Will yelled at his brother, who only laughed as he wiped his mouth.

“My best friend is Argyle, what do you expect?” And Will only rolled his eyes as Mike chuckled and patted his boyfriend’s shoulder to calm him down. You cleared your throat as you knew that Eddie had tried many things thanks to the connections he now has with the famous environment he is in. 

You remember when he once video-called you telling you he felt like shit because he took two lines of coke for the very first time. One would think that an ex-dealer would have tried stronger things, but not Eddie. He never was fond of them, yet, he felt pressured to do so that night.

“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever… puked all over a friend.” And the bastard wiggled his eyebrows your way, and you cussed at him on the low, taking a sip of your drink, as well as Robin with an embarrassed look on her face while Steve winced in disgust.

“Not fair Eddie.” You whined at him and he could only laugh. It was the first time you’d ever gotten drunk, and it took two glasses of fireball and coke for you to barf all over your best friend as he tried to get you out of the party. It was humiliating, yet Eddie held you tight and reassured you that everything was okay.

He took care of you the whole morning afterwards, telling your mom that you crashed at his place because you were tired, even if his place and yours were five minutes away. 

“My turn.” Dustin said with a smug look on his face and Steve took a sharp intake of breath, and you could only groan. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“C’mon Henderson, what do you want to know?” Chrissy laughed as she saw Robin rolling her eyes at her but with a small smile on her lips. Dustin smirked and straightened up.

“Never have I ever slept with anyone in this circle.”

Will and Mike groaned as they took sips of their own drinks, same as Max as she flipped Dustin off and Lucas laughing while shaking his head. Jonathan and Nancy also took sips of their drinks, Steve, as well, Robin and Chrissy…

And you.

Causing everyone to look at you in disbelief.

“What?” Your best friend said with a mocking laugh, thinking you were lying, but another person winced in the circle as Dustin let out a victorious laugh, raising his fist up with a pump.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” 

“Dustin.” You groaned as you clenched your eyes tightly and Dustin shook his head, while everyone looked at him.

“No, I was right, and you two fucking lied about it!” He screamed and Eddie was looking back and forth between you and Dustin, not knowing what was going on.

“You two?” Jonathan asked and then, everyone’s eyes turned to one of the single males in the group who had his hand running in his hair with an exasperated sigh.

“Yeah Dustin, we lied.” Steve finally responded. 

Everyone, except for Dustin remained silent as the curly-headed guy let out a scoff with a shake of his head.

“And you thought I wouldn’t figure it out.” He said with a smug look on his face and you couldn’t even look up from embarrassment, but a voice made you snap out to finally make you talk.

“Kitty?” 

Shit.

“When did this happen?” Robin asked in disbelief and you sighed, finally looking up from your glass, trying to not look at your best friend who was piercing his gaze through your skull, making a shiver run down your spine.

“A month ago.” Everyone almost screamed at the confession and you sighed with a roll of your eyes.

“HOW!?” Mike now asked and Steve cleared his throat, a chuckle then escaping his mouth.

“We were drunk… blasted off drunk.” Eddie’s mouth was on the floor right now, and you could see the betrayal that was slowly plastering on his face, making you wince inwardly. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him, and now he knew, and you felt the lump of guilt forming inside your throat and guts.

“Wait, was it after the barbeque?” Will asked this time and Dustin chuckled with a nod to his head, making you and Steve glare at him.

“Yep. I forgot my phone, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning throughout the house and her car was still parked outside.” Everyone except for three people gasped at the situation, making Dustin proud of his discovery. “Steve told me it was another girl while she slept in his parent’s bed.”

“It was believable.” Steve retorted, making you scoff at that.

“It was fucking dumb Steve.” At your response, everyone’s heads snapped at you while Steve looked at you with an offended frown on his eyebrows.

“It wasn’t! He is just too nosy! And let me remind you, you jumped my bones first.” Gasps and whistles were now heard in your circle of friends as your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at Steve with anger in your face.

“I did not! You were the one who started it!” And to be honest, you could hardly remember that night, you were depressed and angry, and Steve was pent up. That’s all it was. 

“Okay, I don’t remember who did, we’ll just say we are both to blame.” Steve raised his cup up towards you with a sheepish smile on his face, making you roll your own, but a smile was on your lips as you raised your cup as well and took a sip from it. 

“Well, that’s something I didn’t know.” You almost choked as you looked towards your best friend after the confession you blurted out. He had a piercing gaze towards your way, a glare, anger behind his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest. The air immediately tensed and you weren’t the only one who felt it. 

Everyone else was looking somewhere else than in between the two of you. You knew you were in the wrong for not telling him anything, but you really didn’t want him to know about it. It was a one-time thing that would never happen again, so you really didn’t see the need to do so.

Steve also noticed the tense air, clearing his throat to talk once more.

“Okay, my turn, right?”

 And the game went on, but not with the same cheery atmosphere as before. You were quiet, and Eddie was angry, passing on his turn whenever he had to say something. You barely included yourself in the game, your mind racing with nervousness and guilt from not telling your best friend you slept with Steve. 

Once everyone finally decided the night was done, you helped Robin and Chrissy try to tidy up Steve’s kitchen the best you could. You didn’t want to face Eddie, the alcohol in your system was long gone thanks to the dread of facing him alone at some point in the week. You were washing the cups as Robin and Chrissy started giggling and you sent them a wink as they rushed out and up the stairs to one of Steve’s rooms.

“So they left you on cleaning duty.” Steve entered the kitchen with empty bottles with a groan as he threw them in the trash. You giggled and shrugged, finishing to wash the last cup.

“They are in their honeymoon phase, let them be.” You turned off the water from the sink as you felt Steve stand next to you with his arms over his chest.

“But chicks stain sheets, and I really don’t want to hear them having sex. Why can’t they go to one of their houses?” You rolled your eyes as you dried your hands with one of the hand towels that was hanging from the oven’s handle. 

“Put some headphones on, suck it up like a man.” You giggled and he followed with a chuckle only for the two of you to be interrupted by a clear of throat and some keys jingling.

“Sorry to interrupt. Let’s go home.” Eddie was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, swinging his keys around his middle finger with a piercing gaze thrown your way. You looked at him in complete confusion, tilting your head.

“I– I came with my car–” 

“Let’s go home.” It was stern, angry, and fed up. It was a command. He wanted to talk, and you knew that. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sighed, giving Steve a look and he gave you a reassuring nod with a worried frown. 

“You’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” The brown-haired man said as the rockstar rolled his eyes, walking out of the kitchen. You gave Steve one last look before following Eddie out and then towards the front door.

The black matte Jeep Wrangler standing at the front in all of its glory, and it sometimes makes you miss his old van. The one the both of you smoked weed in between school periods, after school, and on the weekends. The one where you laid at the top to star gaze, completely high off your minds. 

You heard a click, snapping you out as you saw him lighting a cigarette while walking, opening the passenger’s door for you, but not waiting for you to get in. He rounded the car to go into the driver’s seat, making you gulp thanks to your nervousness, not knowing where the night was headed. 

You slowly got inside the car, closed the door, and buckled your seatbelt properly, trying to keep your heart out of your throat as it threatened to come out. His eyes were unreadable as they stared forward, making the engine of the car roar as he rolled the window down for the smoke to leave the interior. 

And then, it was quiet. Not even music was on.

He was driving, one hand gripped on the wheel while the other stuck out of the window with the cigarette in between his fingers. You didn’t know where to look or what to do as you played with your fingers on top of your lap, looking out the window. 

What were you supposed to say? Should you wait for him to say something? Or is he waiting for you? Is he waiting for a sign so he can start talking? You don’t understand why the air is so tense between the two of you, it’s not like you murdered someone, it was just–

What–

“Hang on, are you not taking me home?” You asked as you looked at the exit that would take you to your apartment complex. You received no response, making you look at him who was still looking ahead of the road, flicking the cigarette out the window as his other one clenched onto the wheel. 

You knew where he was taking you, back to his apartment in Indianapolis. It wasn’t a long ride, but it was half an hour away, meaning you would have to stay silent for the whole ride, and it was making your gut turn uncomfortably. 

Eddie and you never fought, and you for sure never received this kind of treatment from him. The only time you can remember something like this happened, was back in middle school when you didn’t tell him you had your first kiss with Richard Pax. It was in spin the bottle, and you were embarrassed about it. 

He didn’t talk to you for a whole week until he saw you crying and understood that you were just ashamed of it, and you couldn’t even face Richard for how nervous you were. Eddie apologized to you, and held your hand afterwards, telling you to not consider that your first kiss, that it should be special and one you wanted.

You could feel your phone pinging, and you looked down to see Steve messaging you if you were okay, that Eddie didn’t look happy at all. You sighed as you opened your messages to type a reply back only to get a scoff from your partner inside the car.

“You’re with me right now, at least put the phone down.” Your eyebrows pinched together at that answer, looking at him as anger started rising up inside of you.

“You’re not even talking to me, you have no right to ask anything from me right now.” 

“Mmm.”

The air was now filled with anger, you could feel it because you were the one enraged now. Who did he think he was? Acting pissed just cause you didn’t tell him one thing? You were betting he didn’t tell you many things that he does at the parties he attends or the tours he does with his bands. 

Hypocrite. 

You texted Steve back, aiming the screen away from Eddie’s gaze.

And that’s how the thirty minutes passed by till Eddie finally got the jeep inside the underground parking lot of his building. You unbuckle your seatbelt, stepping out of the car at the same time Eddie did. The doors slamming echoed all over the immense space as Eddie headed towards the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. 

You were angry, nervous, anxious, confused, not understanding why Eddie was acting this way at all. You couldn’t even look at him as the elevator finally reached the floor, and he got in. You hesitated for a few seconds, but it was no use as he held the doors open with his broad hand.

You stepped in, and he pressed his floor, the metal doors closing in front of you. The small space was suffocating you. You could hear his angry and heavy breathing. Maybe you can play it off with a joke or something. Make the air a little lighter, trying to make the tense moment go away, but the distant look in his eyes made you think twice about that. 

You were fidgeting in your place with your purse in your hands. The elevator kept going up until it reached the penthouse at the top. It was over the top, but someone who didn’t have anything growing up, wants the best of the best when he has the opportunity to do so. So Eddie wanted the best of the building of course.

The elevator doors opened and he walked out first, walking towards the double doors of his home, typing in the password in his security lock. You heard the beeping of the numbers being punched in, and you groaned, walking out of the elevator as he opened the front door of his home.

You walked in right after him, taking in the scent of his cologne as he walked further in. You closed the door behind you and it automatically locked in place. It wasn’t that big of a penthouse, not really, and he filled it with his own stuff, his mugs, his records, his guitars. It was Eddie, even if it’s not the trailer back at Hawkins.

You waited for him to talk, only to see him walking away towards the hallway, going towards his bedroom, making you frown in anger. You followed him, stomping next to the couch where you dropped your purse, not caring for it anymore.

He was in front of his king-sized bed with black covers, taking his jacket off, not giving you a second glance. You clenched your jaw at how immature he was, all because you didn’t tell him one thing in your life. Just one.

“Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you going to keep being a little child?” His mouth dropped at your words as if he couldn’t believe you were talking to him that way. He slowly looked up at you, standing in the doorway of his room with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Me? Why don’t you talk sweetheart? Why didn’t you tell me about you and Stevie?” And your anger started bubbling up again. 

“Why does it matter!? I was drunk! And it was a while ago!” You answered as you waved your arms around in exclamation. 

“It matters cause you are my best friend, and you didn’t tell me you slept with one of our friends! It’s important shit!” Okay, you could see a little bit as to why he would be mad at you. The difference as to why you would not get mad at him for not telling you stuff like this, was because you would end up hurt if he did.

But he doesn’t end up hurt, because he doesn’t feel the same as you do.

“Eddie–”

“And with Steve! Why the fuck did it have to be him!?” Now this part, you didn’t understand.

“Why does it matter if it was with Steve?” He was pacing now, and you couldn’t help but feel confused by his attitude. Why is he so agitated over this? You didn’t tell him you slept with Steve, while drunk off your mind, big deal. He let out a scoff as his hands ran through his face, completely pissed, his nose flaring as he breathed heavily.

“Fuck Kitty, it’s not fucking fair!” You could see his hands shaking as he grunted at each step, and you were now worried. Did you do something you didn’t have to do? Was there something you didn’t know about Eddie and Steve? Some kind of pact or something of the sort? Did you mess up the friendship?

“What’s not fair!? Eddie, you are not making any fucking sense, and–” Your words were cut off as two strong hands held onto your cheeks, and your best friend’s face was inches away from you as he talked through his teeth.

“It is not fair he got to have you like that. It is not fair he had the chance of having you first. It is not fair he got what I’ve been wanting, for fucking years.”

And your words were knocked out of your lungs, as well as your air. 

There was no way he said that.

Because why would he?

But he just did, didn’t he? You weren’t deaf, you heard it–

“What?” Your voice was so small, and Eddie noticed, wincing slightly as he pulled away from you, letting go of your face and you immediately realized you spoke, and that he might have taken it as rejection but– what is going on?

You were frozen in your place, looking at how he backed away, running his hands all over his face as he started pacing back and forth, not even glancing at you as he took a few breaths in. You on the other hand, felt your heart in your throat, beating constantly, furiously, feeling as if you were going to pop a vein here and there for how strong you felt the pumping of your own blood course through your whole body.

You saw how he started to slow down his pacing, standing in one place, a meter or two away from you, and his eyes found yours. You could feel fear, sadness, and embarrassment in those eyes, all in one place, in those irises. 

“I– I really didn’t want to do this… this way…” He scoffed at his own words and shook his head with a fake chuckle on his lips. “Fuck, I didn’t even know I was ever going to do this.”

You were just speechless, feeling your eyes burning because it all led to what is obvious… But he never showed it in his life, so you don’t understand, it is not processing in your head as it should.

“Do… what?” It was a choked whisper, the best one you could master at this moment because your throat was just closed up, non-working. Your brain was a jumbled mess as it tried to put a puzzle together that you never thought was there to begin with.

His eyes darted towards you and then out the window as he licked his lips, thinking about his next words carefully. 

“You– You are my best friend… The fear of losing you is greater than any other feeling I hold inside.” He was struggling, you noticed the nervousness, the twitching of the tip of his fingers as he scratched his cheek.

“You won’t–”

“You can’t say I won’t lose you. I say these three words, and I won’t be able to go back, and you won’t be able to either. I’ve been holding them back for ten years, I can keep going if it means I get to keep you.” 

Three words. Three. Are those the same three words you hold dear? Those three words you’ve been fighting against for so many years? Three simple words but yet that can cause so much pain if you don’t receive them back? 

Could it be? 

Your mouth opened and closed, and you felt a tear rolling down your cheek, it was inevitable, and you saw how Eddie’s shoulder slumped down, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle in a frown. Sadness.

You had to speak. You have to fight the thrumming of your heart and the warning signs your brain is throwing your way to stop you. But Eddie and you already share one feeling. Fear. So what if there are other feelings you both share? Equal feelings?

“S-Say those words…” You pushed, you needed to make sure, you needed to hear them, you needed that happiness you never thought you would get with him. He shook his head once and twice, biting the inside of his cheek.

“No. I won’t. I can’t lose you Kitty… I can’t.” Your heart was ablaze because of nerves, of impatience, and of hope. You took a shaky breath in, your fist clenching and unclenching in order to hold back your own words.

“I– Please say them…” And as Eddie looked at you, you could see how his features softened and relaxed into a surprised expression, as if looking at you let him solve a riddle in his head. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he looked at you, swallowing, and you felt your bottom lip trembling, your eyes burning, your body almost shaking with anticipation.

You saw how his chest moved up and down in a quick manner, giving away how heavy his breathing turned. Your eyes were connected to his, trying to let him know, trying to make him have that courage to make the first step you are not confident enough to take. And then his shoulders relaxed, his features doing the exact same, and as he looked at you with glossy eyes, he opened his mouth to finally take the leap.

“I love you.” 

Silence overtook the two of you as the words sank. He loves you, and not as a friend. He loves you as a woman. He loves you as a partner. He loves you as much as you love him. He loves you. He loves you.

A sob ripped from your chest and you slammed your hand on your mouth, feeling new tears streaming down your face, but a smile was hiding behind your palm as you choked on another sob. Eddie’s face turned into a worried one as he took a step towards you, his hands ready to reach out for you and then you started giggling.

You couldn’t believe this. Were you that blind? Were you this stupid? Or maybe it was the two of you? Why were you the only one to blame when he also held these feelings for so long? You’re best friends for a reason, and this is the greatest example of it all. Pining for eachother since teenagers, evolving into love, and never giving any hints of it to one another. Not even flirty compliments, or insinuations.

You couldn’t help yourself as you kept giggling, eyes closed as one hand was over your mouth while the other gripped your stomach. Eddie was absolutely worried now, thinking you were losing your mind. All these years, you two could have done something about your feelings, but your insecurities fucked up your brains because, if it hadn’t, maybe one of you would have noticed something.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You yelled out loud, still laughing and Eddie only frowned as he straightened up, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Nice to know my love for you is stupid.” That made you stop laughing, only to look at his pissed-off frown and for you to burst into laughter again. The tears never stopped coming down, feeling your heart flying into the sky as you also felt the need to bang your head against a wall, repeatedly.

“I– I promise it’s not that!” You were trying to calm down, taking deep breaths in and out as you kept watching him. He wasn’t laughing, just staring at you with a hint of sadness, anger, and confusion. All together, which only prompted you to snort, another laugh threatening to come out. You raised your hand up to stop Eddie from lashing out. “Sorry!”

“Sorry? I confess my love to you and you laugh in my face. Do you even know how hurtful and disrespectful that is?” You could feel his words holding some truth, but you knew he was also finding the situation kind of comical. You waved your hands in front of you, small giggles escaping you still.

“You don’t understand, I can’t believe we are this stupid.” You snorted at the word and Eddie’s arms uncrossed, tilting his head to the side in wonder, an eyebrow raised up in question.

“Why are we stupid?” And you couldn’t help but start laughing again as new tears rolled down your cheeks, happiness just exploding from every part of your body.

“I mean, we were in love with eachother all these years, and we never knew? We really are fucking stupid Eds!” Your giggles stopped after those words came out of your mouth. Your eyes slowly found his as a ringing in your ears started being really loud, almost hurting you. His eyes were wide, incredulous, his arms dangling on the sides of his body.

“You– You’re in love with me?” His mouth was agape, staring at you with a perplexed expression as you felt your heart about to combust, only for him to start cracking up as well, slamming his hands over his face, his laughter bouncing on every wall of the room, and you couldn’t help but join him in it.

You both now know you are idiots, absolute fucking morons and you cannot believe you wasted all this time being only friends when you could have been more. The feelings were one and the same. The jealousy. The anger. The hopelessness. The yearning. The happiness. The need. The love. 

He let his hands drop from his face, a last shake of his head as he looked back at you. Your giggles slowly stopped, and you wiped the tears away from your eyes. This was real now. This was happening for you, for him, for your future. He took a step forward and the nerves were back all together. 

“Can’t believe we didn’t see it at all… I– honestly didn’t think I would ever have a chance after you signed that contract Eds…” You averted your gaze towards the floor as you took various breaths in, trying to control yourself again, center your mind back into reality, and push the shock away. He sighed at that, shaking his head once more even if you didn’t see him.

“I never thought I had a chance. I just thought and still think you are way too good for me sweetheart…” He cleared his throat as you frowned at that and looked up at him to hear him better. “I honestly… I had a bit of hope when I signed the contract. I thought I would finally be– good for you.” 

Your heart stopped and sunk into a deep sea, going to the darkest bits. Eddie felt that way with you? That he wasn’t good enough for you? That he had to be someone else in order to feel that he had a chance with you?

“Ed–Eddie, I didn’t care for that… I still don’t– I thought that you were the one out of reach… I– What chance would I have had with a rockstar that–” You didn’t want to finish that phrase. It was too embarrassing, but how could you not? How could you not compare yourself to all the women Eddie had after signing that contract? The models, the singers, the influencers… It was impossible not to do so.

He seemed to realize the doubt on your face because his features softened as he took a step closer to you, the tips of your shoes touching as he stood right before you. He scratched his cheek as he tried to find the next words.

“Well… we aren’t out of reach anymore… are we?” And your eyes found his, your heart in your throat as he licked his lips and you knew what was supposed to happen now. But–

“What if it’s weird?” He blinked two times before tilting his head and you wanted to drown in embarrassment.

“What would be weird?” His voice was a tone lower than before and it made you tremble a little, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Well– We know eachother since we were ten… What if you find it weird to kiss me?” And it almost looked like Eddie could not believe what you were saying. 

“Sweetheart… I’ve been dying to kiss you since I can even remember.” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burn up, looking down with a small smile on your face. He bit his bottom lip and cleared his throat, making you look up at him once more. “We’ll just see where it goes, how about that?”

You were afraid of that because what if it really happened that he would back out cause he felt it too weird for him? Or what if you weren’t of his expectations? What if you let him down? But you would never know unless– 

“Okay…” The word ‘nervous’ runs a little short of what you were feeling. You had your own expectations of this moment, but you knew he would fill every single one of them and exceed them. Now for you? You weren’t so sure. 

“Trust me Kitty…” He gave you a nervous, yet charming smile as he finally invaded your space and leaned. You closed your eyes and waited, feeling your whole body about to collapse. You expected his lips on your lips, but you felt them on your cheek. You opened your eyes with confusion plastered in them to see Eddie grinning.

“Eds…?”

“Weird?” You giggled at that, feeling your nerves slowly leaving you.

“Nope.” He smiled as he guided his lips towards your other cheek, placing another kiss there. You two have shared kisses on the face before. Cheeks, foreheads, nose… All innocent, and now, the kisses had a completely different meaning.

“How about that?” You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head, and your heart was already thrumming with impatience instead of nerves. His smile faltered a bit but it never left as he finally leaned towards your lips. You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes at the same time he closed his. 

And finally, your lips touched for the very first time.

It was small, nervous, testing, but it still sent an electric shock down both of your bodies. Simultaneously. Your lips fit perfectly against his, and it felt right. It felt so right. He pulled away too soon, but his lips hovered over yours as he opened his eyes to look at you. You looked at him through your lashes.

“Not weird…” You mumbled and he only hummed, his own heart exploding. He tilted his head to the other side and pressed his lips against yours again, this time a little firmer than before. You felt your body craving to wrap itself around him, but you two were testing this new development. You had to be patient, but from the looks of it, it seemed Eddie was also enjoying it like you were.

And there was no lie in that because Eddie felt like he was combusting from how much he felt his body flush. He felt sweat on his fingertips and he just wanted to hold you in his arms, but just like yourself, he needed your green light. He slowly pulled away from that peck, a soft smack being heard in the room as you two looked at eachother again.

“Weird?” He asked in a whisper, and you shook your head desperately as you felt your eyes becoming glossy with need as you looked at him. 

And he dove in. This kiss was harder, deeper, and his hands finally reached out to hold your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by raising your arms in order to wrap them around his neck, flushing your chest against his, and finally, your lips moved against eachother’s, and it felt magical. 

It felt like that puzzle piece you thought you would never find, but it was hidden in a very small corner, underneath a carpet. His arms wrapped around you, one palm on the small of your back and the other right in the middle. You felt how hot your body was getting but you couldn’t stop yourself, needing more and more from him.

He deepened the kiss even more, pressing you into him, wanting to feel more of you. Your heads moved from side to side, and he was going to be greedy and ask for more. His tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, making your heart jump and a small gasp escaped your throat, but you opened your mouth to welcome him in.

And you two sighed in pleasure as your tongues clashed together, having a taste of eachother for the first time. You tasted like strawberries and beer thanks to your lipgloss, mints, and the alcohol you two had earlier in the night. He tasted like you always imagined he would. Tobacco, and this kind of minty taste that must be from the flavor sphere inside the filters of his cigarettes. Beer was also mixed in, and one of your hands couldn’t help but scratch the back of his neck for more grip, making him groan into the kiss.

You were surprised by the noise, but a moan escaped your mouth and into his as your breasts rubbed against his chest and his tongue danced with yours. You felt yourself sweating with anticipation, the track of time disappearing as you two melted more and more into eachother, but air was soon needed and you two broke apart, panting onto one another’s lips. His eyes were staring into yours and he gulped as he spoke again.

“Told you. Not weird.” He sounded breathless, and you could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, in fact, you didn’t even know if it was yours. You chased his lips and gave him a soft peck, your eyes half-lidded in bliss. He gave you a cheeky smile as he talked in a low voice. “Already can’t get enough of me Kitty?”

You were flustered, burning, but you wanted to show him how much you wanted him. So you kissed him again, deep, long, and slow. It was loving and filled with the emotions you wanted to shower him with for the past ten years. You pulled away with a small smile on your face as he stared at you, a little taken aback.

“Never going to get enough of you.” And you could see your best friend, this insane rockstar, blushing a deep red on his cheeks and you couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re red!”

His cheeks lose the color, just slightly, and his eyes squint at you, annoyance displayed in his features. Your smile fell down and before you could even speak, he bent down slightly in order to hook his arm around your waist and throw you over his shoulder as he stood up again. You screamed at that movement, your legs flailing a little bit as he walked towards his room.

“Cocky little shit.” He chuckled and in just one minute you were facing the floor, the other you were facing the ceiling as his mattress hit your back, making you bounce slightly. You felt butterflies flying all around inside your stomach as you raised yourself on your elbows in order to look at him.

His eyes were dark as he scanned your body, the dress you were wearing hitched up a bit on the middle of your thighs and before you could say anything, he leaned forward to help you take your sandals off. His fingers grazed your ankles and a shiver ran from your calf to the top of your head. You saw how he took each boot off with the help of the tips on the heels. He looked at you and then finally got on the bed, crawling on all fours on top of you, prompting you to lean back onto the bed.

Your breathing was fast as you looked up at him. Those brown eyes that have been with you since kids, and now, those eyes were looking at you with hunger, but was it really new? He leaned his body down, a bit closer, still not wanting to press his chest nor hips against yours.

“Kitty… We don’t have to do anything–” And you cut him off there with a shake of your head. He might have gotten the wrong idea because of your possible shocked facial expression.

“No, no… I– I want to…” He tilted his head with doubt as he inspected your face which only became hotter and hotter at the intense stare.

“You don’t sound too sure. We don’t have to do this now–”

“Eddie, I want to… God, I want to– I mean, have you seen you? I have a hidden maxi-size poster of your half-naked rolling stone cover just because your pelvis showed…” He snorted at your bluntness but seriously, it was the hottest you’ve seen Eddie look. The V shape with the happy trail going downwards, just where the edge of the cover ended was enough to make you have so many fantasies in the lapse of a minute.

“Alright. Good to know… So, is it just nerves? Cause, I am nervous too… I mean, it’s you… I built this up in my head a thousand times and it’s finally here and honestly? I am kind of afraid of busting in my pants.” You giggled at that, wholeheartedly too and he just kept smiling at you, brushing some hair off your face. You stopped laughing and gulped as shame crept all over your body.

You can trust him. It’s Eddie, and he loves you… He will understand you, there’s no need to be scared. The nervousness and anxiety of laying yourself out there to him didn’t calm itself down though, but you had to reassure him that it wasn’t him at all, nor the fear of it being weird.

“I– I just… do you mind… having the lights off?”

And that seemed to throw Eddie back. His eyebrows came to the middle in a confused frown as he looked down at you, trying to understand you. You looked away from him and you felt your eyes glossing over as more embarrassment came over your body.

“Kitty, I– Why do you want them off?” He will respect you, always, but he wants the answer out of your lips to make sure he hadn’t done anything to make you think he didn’t think you were at least pretty, but he always complimented you. Obviously, friendly compliments, not telling you the actual amount of things he wanted to say to you.

“Um… I– Well… um… I am different from all the– flings you had in the past two years…” You couldn’t look at him. You sounded so stupid, so little, but you had to be honest with him. You don’t want to have a terrified look on your face just because you pushed yourself to do it with the lights on. Eddie blinked a few times, his head shaking softly.

“Come again?” You cleared your throat, feeling as if it were closing up slowly. You have no smooth skin or toned body.

Adiposities, cellulite, stretchmarks, stretched skin, textured in every place you could look at. 

“I’m… nothing like those girls– those bodies, I don’t–” You didn’t want him to look at your body. You aren’t insecure, not always… but you know who Eddie slept with, and the insecurity with him is on another kind of level.

Eddie was stunned as he looked down at you. You compared yourself… and maybe all this time you had been doing so, and he never noticed. Were you hurting in some kind of way? Was he the reason you weren’t confident enough to talk to him about your feelings towards him? 

You gulped as you looked at him when you didn’t receive any answer. He seemed concerned, deep in thought, and you wondered if you had already driven him away with just your mere words. You opened your mouth to talk but he was faster.

“You think you are inferior to them?” His eyes were filled with confusion and some type of sadness, making you frown with worry, but he kept talking before you could even ask. “Sweetheart… Kitty, oh my god…”

You blinked a few times, trying to understand his facial expressions that were changing every second. From angry, to confused, to incredulous, to sad… you weren’t understanding what was going through his head.

“What is it?”

“What is it? Fuck… I don’t want to be blunt, but I feel like if I’m not you won’t understand one single bit of what’s going on in my head so…” He cleared his throat as a blush spread on his cheeks while looking down at you. “You have no idea how many times I popped a boner with you.”

That was not something you expected to hear, not right now, and certainly not from him.

“What?” He groaned followed by a sigh as he kept hovering over your body. You could feel the heat of his body radiating towards yours, and you could feel your blood rushing to your face, or probably your head.

“What I said. I popped a boner many times, even when we were at your house watching Sleepaway Camp and you had those pajamas on that had kittens all over… I covered my crotch with a pillow.” He chuckled to hide his nervousness but your mind was still trying to work out what he was saying.

“I– Pajamas?” He looked into your eyes and he gave you one slow nod.

“And don’t let me get started on the pool parties. One piece, two piece… Even when you didn’t even take anything off, and fuck– This sundress? I had to tuck myself when a little bit of wind helped me see the back of your thighs… Just the back of your thighs darling!” He was exasperated now, his eyes wild as he rambled but your mind had shut off.

You? You got him worked up? Today? And before? Even when in the most clothed situations? He looked your way? 

“Really…?” Your voice came out smaller than what you intended but you couldn’t help it. You were feeling emotional, this revelation trying to sit in your brain as it tried to push the possibility of Eddie actually being attracted to you after the women he’s been with away. His eyes softened and he moved a hand towards your cheek to caress it in a soft manner.

“Really. You drive me absolutely insane…” His eyes turned slightly darker and you noticed the air around the two of you change, shift into something that made you feel a little light-headed. “Will you let me show you just how insane you make me?”

And your body went limp at his question, a hunger in the eyes of your best friend that you never thought would ever be directed to you. 

But maybe those eyes were always there, just not when you were looking. Glances he stole at you at prom after picking you up himself and going together. His eyes scanning your body when you appeared in a long shimmery dress for one of his first award shows, something that made people speculate you two were dating, but then the paparazzis did their job to dismiss that. 

Feelings mixed with pure desire and lust that felt wrong to even experience. He watched you become a woman right before his own eyes, growing up together, graduating together after two failed attempts on Eddie’s part, and even with the different future paths, you a veterinarian and he a rockstar, you never lost touch.

But now… now there is no need to feel guilt. No restraints because the line was already crossed.

So you gave him a slow nod despite the nervous look on your face. Is there a possibility for Eddie to want you just as much as he says he does? More than Megan Fox? Than that chick from that rock band that opened his shows and that is exactly like him and a better match? How is there even a chance?

Your thoughts came to a halt as you felt his face lowering in order to take your lips with his, your mind short circuiting as the kiss wasn’t shy at all like the previous one. It was instantly deep, passionate, and desperate. Teeth almost knocking with eachother as your heads moved from side to side, your arms wrapping around his shoulders wanting to feel him closer.

He chuckled into the kiss, and he pulled away with a soft smack of the lips, a confused whimper escaping your lips to then gasping when his head ducked even further and his kiss was now on your neck, on your pulse point. 

“You have no idea how much I have wanted to mark you. All the guys that flirted with you, or were your hookups… I just wanted to mark your neck so that they would back off.” He mumbled on your neck and your eyes widened at that, your thighs rubbing against eachother below him for some friction.

And you would be lying if you didn’t think of doing the same. The roaring of the word ‘MINE’ whenever a girl got close to Eddie back in school was insanely big inside your head. But as the years went by, that voice only got softer, slower, until he told you the first fling he had after the contract was signed. That voice said a few last words before disappearing, ‘Maybe he is not mine, and never will be.’.

But now– It’s back, and stronger than ever.

“Then mark me Eds… But–” And it was risky, but you wanted it, you needed it, you needed everyone, absolutely everyone to know he is yours. “Only if you let me mark you back.”

And his kisses stopped, surprised by your boldness, the jeans straining a little more to the point of it being almost painful. Is he going to get yelled at by Joyce and Wayne? His two managers? Most likely. Does he care? Not a fucking chance. Not now, not ever. A smile formed on his lips as he mumbled against your skin.

“Deal.” And his lips pressed again against your pulse point. You were afraid of your sounds, but a moan almost got out when his lips pressed pecks until you felt him sucking on your skin. He was going to make sure to brand you as his. For real. His breath was heavy as he inhaled with his nose, loving the taste of you and how your nails dug into his nape and the other pair onto his shoulder.

He repeated it, three times to be exact, leaving you with deep red marks that went downwards a bit. He pulled away to look at his art, a smile on his lips as he saw how dazed you already looked as you tried to level your breathing back to a normal pace. You looked beautiful like this, and he was opening his mouth in order to ask if you were ready to keep going, but you broke silence first with a giggle.

“It tickled.” His heart only clenched a bit more at you, thinking that you couldn’t look cuter, or more endearing than you were now, but you always surprise him, don’t you? He smirked as he leaned forward, nose touching with yours, making your giggles stop completely.

“Can you stop being adorable for a second? I’m trying to be sexy here.” You really didn’t know if you had a face anymore because you just felt it combust in flames. He chuckled at watching your expression, even if his own matched with yours. “Can I keep going?”

You gulped and slowly nodded, but his eyes started tracing your neck and going downwards. You wondered what was going on and then they finally landed on your sundress. His hand raised to press against your waist and his eyes met with yours once more, pupils completely dilated with desire.

“Eddie?”

“Kitty… Can we keep the lights on?” Your heart stopped at that, your hands clenching on his shoulders and you felt your whole body break into a cold nervous sweat.

“I– I thought we were still going to keep the lights off–” And he shook his head, his eyes looking down towards the top of your sundress, a feral side of him coming to light and that he never thought he wouldn’t be able to control it when it came to you.

“We’ll do whatever you want but– Baby, I want to see the body I’ve been craving all these years. I want to see every detail, even a freckle I might have missed, or a mole in a place that I never thought I would see before…” You saw how his eyes traveled all over your body, the hand on your waist giving a press every now and then when his eyes landed at particular places.

You could feel it, even in the midst of your anxiety, that desire that wants to eat you alive, inch by inch, and your own need grows from it. His eyes are not lying, his body language is not lying, his touches, his words, his overall energy, are not lying to you. He wants you. Eddie wants you and has always wanted you. 

And that brings you an ounce of confidence. Even if small, it was enough to take the first step–

“Okay…” And his eyes snapped back towards yours, his uneasiness overlapping with his excitement.

“No– No, we don’t have to do something you don’t feel comfortable with because of my selfishness sweetheart–” 

“You– You promised you would show me…” And if you didn’t do the lights now, they would be on at some other point, wouldn’t they? You just had to rip the bandaid off. His head started turning, trying to see which was the best way to show you his true feelings, and he decided on a different approach than what he thought would be the most appropriate one.

He got a knee between yours, nudging on them. You looked down in surprise but followed the queue and parted your left leg away, very slowly, afraid of the sundress driving up even more than before. His eyes weren’t leaving your face though, needing to see your reaction as he pressed his knee against your right leg as well.

Your heart rate picked up, and the butterflies in your belly probably ate your stomach up at this point. You swallowed your nerves as you parted your right leg as well, and he was finally able to get his knees between your legs. He took a sharp courageous breath, letting a nervous sigh out, and pressed his hips against yours. 

You gasped and an electric current shot from your core to every single end nerve of your body. His bulge was harshly pressed against your center, and he groaned at finally having some friction against the strain. He was hard. He was rock hard for you.

His lips found yours in a soft peck, only to then kiss the corner of your mouth as he rolled his hips against yours and for the first time in the night, a little moan escaped your lips. The press was delicious on your clit, but it only was building your need for him, slowly, clouding your mind, your sight, your thoughts.

He groaned onto your skin, almost a growl, as his kisses traveled further into the crook of your neck. His hips kept rolling, getting a little lost in it all, drunkenness from finally having you hitting him at full blast. He sucked on places he hadn't before and he nibbled on the soft skin, making another moan escape you which only makes him twitch.

“You are the only one I’ve ever truly wanted… In every single possible way, you can imagine.” It was a low mumble, but it was enough for you to be able to hear it and for your arms to wrap around him, nails digging into his back, grabbing onto the black shirt, pulling on it at every roll of his lower half. 

He pulled away from your neck and raised himself on his knees, making your arms fall back down onto the mattress. He crossed his arms, reaching for the hem of his shirt and immediately ripping it away and throwing it across the room.

Your eyes widened when you saw his torso, his belly, the happy trail you have fantasized about so many times with, after that stupid magazine cover. His chest, which only had that skull and spider back in high school, was now littered with many random pieces, as well as his arms, even his hands. 

He was gorgeous, perfect, and has always been to your eyes, but now he is not only that but shining as if he were polished gold. Your eyes were all over his belly button and the V shape on his hips, not noticing the eyes that were looking at you with a smirk on his lips. Your eyes went downwards to the bulge on his pants and your eyes widened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at it better.

“Holy shit, I thought you were bluffing Eddie!” It wasn’t exactly a bulge… His dick was so hard that you could see the outline of his length as it pressed sideways against the restrictive pants. And–

“Whenever I said I was big, I meant it, and I also repeated it so many times to see if you showed any interest!” He almost yelled in a high-pitched voice which only made you giggle only to stop when you noticed his eyes scanning your every inch, making you gulp loudly. His hand reached down, fingers playing with the hem of your dress.

You two had seen eachother’s upper bodies, but in completely different situations. This wasn’t some nice summer’s day at a pool. He will see everything, and he wants to properly scan you, touch you, feel you. But– Fuck, the images of all those women pop in your head again, comparing yourself to them, their bodies, their futures, their ambitions, and their wealth. 

You close your eyes tightly, waiting for the tug of the shirt in order to help him by lifting your upper body from the mattress, but his fingers let go of the dress, and that warm touch suddenly appears on your cheek. You opened your eyes to meet his. He was giving you a small reassured smile as he looked down at your face, pupils that gave you safety and filled you with warmth.

You noticed his fingers were slightly trembling and you realized that Eddie was just as nervous as you were. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, making you moan in delight at feeling him this close once more. He chuckled in between and pulled away moments after in order to talk again.

“I compared myself with Steve today.” And your eyebrows raised at that in surprise. 

“What? Why?” He couldn’t help but scoff at your question and he kneeled back up in between your legs, letting you prop yourself up on your elbows. He motioned all over himself and then looked back at you as if it were obvious.

“I am not exactly like him, baby. Steve has no tattoos, wears sunshine clothes, rich boy clothes, listens to pop music, and is a tidy guy… I am nothing like that sweetheart.” You were shocked at those words… Eddie? With who he is now, doubting himself?

“B-But… you– you didn’t have to worry–”

“I know that now… so let me show you just how much you don’t have to worry either. Please…” He was looking down at your face, waiting for a response. Your heart soared into the sky at those words, and despite your nervousness, there was a side of you that trusted Eddie blindly, and it was whispering to you that you should let him. Let him show you what he means by all of that.

So you slowly sit up and cross your arms in order to grab the hem of your dress and before you could say anything or stop, you yanked it upwards, throwing it to the side. Your eyes were not looking at him, not wanting to see the reaction to your body. A body he is not used to having anymore. It’s not firm, or perky, or smooth, markless, spotless. It’s full of those.

Instead, you felt fingers on your chin that made you lift your head up so you could look at Eddie once more. He was smiling softly as he leaned and kissed you, softly and gently. You felt yourself being lowered again, back hitting against the mattress, while one of his hands pressed onto your waist and the other helped with the leverage of moving you down.

His lips broke apart from yours and your body was burning from the small interaction only for a cold sweat to invade you as you saw him straighten up again and his eyes locked on your body. The visible part of your breasts above the cups of your bra, your shoulders, your tummy, your hips, and you needed to cover your body, or at least your face to not see his reaction.

But your eyes caught onto the twitch of pain in his eyebrows as he groaned softly into his throat. You could see his jaw clench, and a vein in his neck popping out slightly as he swallowed hard. 

“Eds–?”

“I’m sorry– I can’t hold myself back, I’m sorry.” And his hand quickly went to his jeans, unbuttoning them and zipping them down, a sigh of relief coming out and then, with an almost animalistic growl, he lunged back down on you, his lips taking yours in a ravishing kiss. Hot, rough, deep, moving at a quick desperate pace. You were thrown off at the intensity but quickly reciprocated as the butterflies in your belly exploded in retaliation.

His kiss only made the fire worse and you wrapped your arms around his neck to have something to hold on to as you raised your hips up to meet his, needing some kind of friction. You moaned into the kiss when his bulge rubbed against your clothed pussy. He grunted and bit your bottom lip gently as if to reprimand you for the action. 

His lips traveled south and you expected them back on your neck, but they kept moving, kissing on your collarbone, and then the top of one of your breasts. You gasped and arched your back slightly as his hips kept rutting against yours, slow but still very needy. His lips went to your other breast only to then continue down, kissing your chest and downwards to your tummy, his hips leaving yours as he moved down, sending shivers all over your body and you could feel the goosebumps rising up on your skin.

His hands were now gripping your hips, fingers digging on your skin, dipping into it as if he were clawing into something to keep himself centered. His lips traveled all over your tummy, and your waist, groans leaving his mouth as he bit onto your side, a nibble, causing you to jump. He was being so… needy, and desperate, something you never experienced before. 

He moved upwards again, his lips not leaving your skin, but his body moving up again as one hand traveled all the way towards your back, making you arch it upwards a little bit. You felt his fingers play with the clasp of your bra and he kept kissing over the cups of it, making you mewl a little as you felt yourself clench in anticipation.

“Eddie–”

“Please, let me see more… Please, sweetheart?” His eyes were cloudy in the darkness of lust as he raised his head up, chin resting on your chest with his mouth hanging slightly open. You gulped a bit but you felt a certain power in you that you didn’t think you would feel with him. Some kind of confidence rises up inside your chest. 

“Yeah…” You fully arch your back so he can have more movement to snap your bra open in one movement. You lay back down once he takes his hand out and immediately it grabs onto the strap of your left shoulder to push it down, surprising you by how quickly he was moving, as if he weren’t thinking anymore, just acting.

He makes a cup move out of the way, revealing your perked-up nipple, making you flush a bit in embarrassment but also in arousal, as you feel the cold air hit it a bit. You can’t even think far enough that his lips circle around it, your nipple being sucked into his mouth as his tongue presses on it. His hand was roughly grabbing onto your breast to keep it still and you squirmed beneath him as pleasure filled your senses.

You let a moan out when his teeth grazed the tip of your nipple, and his own satisfaction showed when a groan got stuck in his throat. His hips started moving against you again, the shape of his dick rubbing deliciously against your heat, over and over, destroying your underwear each second it passed but you couldn’t care less. 

With a ‘pop’ he let go of your left nipple in order to raise up and rip your bra off your body finally. Now, without the elastics of your bra, you know your breasts are not in perfect shape, gravity, changes of weight, and the years doing their job with your skin. The stretch marks pronounced around the nipple area, which made you a little self-conscious only for that thought to be thrown out the window when Eddie talked once more, almost in a whine.

“The most perfect pair of tits I’ve ever seen baby, so fucking perfect, jesus christ…” You felt a wave of embarrassment at the dirty talking. You will have to get used to how it makes you feel coming from your best friend’s mouth. But he sounded so delighted as if he were drunk, staring at them, back and forth, trying to decide if he should go for the other neglected nipple but then his eyes hit your surprised ones, and you see how they widen in realization.

“A– Are they?” And he covered his face with one hand to cover up his reddened cheeks. 

“I uh… Yeah, I just– Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” And you couldn’t help but giggle, making your breasts jiggle a bit at your laughter, his eyes flickering to them instinctively. 

“Well, glad to know that…” And you honestly were. No one has ever looked at you the way Eddie was doing right now, so desperately, wanting to ravish you but waiting for you to give him the green light to do so. The fire inside of you and all over your body needed to be extinguished, and you also had to show him how eager you were for him, your own patience after ten long years wearing thin.

You sat up, looking up at him as your fingers hooked on his boxers and jeans. He licked his lips nervously, his eyes scanning your face as he gulped harshly, his hands moving to go over yours and help you drag down his clothes. 

Your head slowly moved downwards when you felt his bulge forbidding you to move the boxers even lower, prompting you to stretch the elastic even more and your eyes widened when you finally saw him. His cock slaps against his belly, and your face must be one of awe because Eddie had to clear his throat to center you back to reality.

“Um, you okay there?” He tried to say it with a hint of comedy, humor, but he was nervous, just so fucking nervous. 

You two know eachother since kids, and even with that thought in mind, it doesn’t feel weird to be right here with you like this, knowing what the two of you were about to do. But maybe you don’t think the same. Now seeing him completely naked might make you rethink what the two of you were doing, thinking about the past, about what–

He hissed in surprise when he felt your hand over his shaft, your thumb pressing onto his red leaking tip, causing him to lock eyes with you again. You were smiling up at him, an innocent little grin that stirred the lust inside of him and renewed it. He was big in your hand, that you were slowly moving, lazily, feeling the warmth of it on your palm. 

You wanted to dart your tongue out, feeling like being a little filthy, show him how eager and needy of him you were. You were looking at the tip, your eyes clouded with desire, and your mouth started to open, only for Eddie’s hand to press on your cheek to make you look up at him.

“As much as I would love for you to make one of my many wet dreams about you come true, I don’t want to lose the small bit of dignity I have left.” You tilted your head in confusion at that only to be pushed back onto the mattress, making you bounce on it, opening your eyes after you gasped to see Eddie taking off his clothes, and almost falling off the edge of the bed in the action, making you snort, covering your mouth after he sent a glare your way.

“I’m sorry Eds, but– I think you just lost that dignity you mentioned.” You giggled and he growled as he crawled over you, his finger hooking into the elastic of your underwear, yanking it and letting go so it hit against your skin, making you yelp at the 

little sting.

“Don’t mock me now.” Your giggles stopped when you met his dark eyes, just looking down into yours, his head tilting to the side. “Can I keep going or are you going to keep laughing at me? I am on a mission, Kitty.”

Your eyebrows frowned in confusion as you stirred a bit below him. Before you could ask, his face went back to the crook of your neck where he could continue with the soft featherlight kisses and as you were about to close your eyes, you felt his fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear once more, making your breath hitch.

You felt him nibble on your pulse point at the same time his fingers sneaked in, a little bit of self-consciousness filled you when you realized you hadn’t shaved properly, just trimmed, and maybe those women he slept with had the laser hair removal you cannot afford. You opened your mouth to apologize but the words were stolen away when his index finger grazed your clit softly, yet perfect.

“Eddie–” You breathed out, and he only gave a low humming with satisfaction as he felt how wet you were for him. He was twitching, wanting to rub himself on you to relieve himself a bit, the friction very much needed but– he wanted to do this. He wanted to make you come undone underneath him, show you just how good he could be for you, how eager he is to give you pleasure.

His middle finger pressed on your clit, a little harder now, slow and lazy circles being done as your breathing turned into held in moans, and whimpers as your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Yeah, mark him. Mark him. He wants you to mark him, just like he always had wanted you to do.

“So fucking perfect for me– I’ve always known but fuck–” You whimpered at his words, trembling underneath him as he kept rubbing you, deliciously so. His mouth left your throat to then peck your collarbone and shift a bit lower, his back arching so his lips could land on your left nipple. 

His middle finger ran through your slit, coating it with your wetness before slowly starting to nudge inside. At the same time, his mouth started sucking and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue, causing you to throw your head back onto the pillow, a strangled moan escaping your lips, making him smile with victory against your breast as his finger was engulfed by your warmth.

He couldn’t help but groan at the feel of you, reaching deep, his dreams and imagination out of the window as you gave another whimper when he pulled his finger out, only to plunge it inside again, easily. He needed to worship you. He wanted to make you cum on his fingers, on his tongue, many times, putting you first above everything, needing to hear you moan his name repeatedly… but your breathy moans make it hard to be patient.

He pulled out of your cunt in order to rub his ring finger along his middle one now, rubbing fast-paced circles on your clit, making your hips jerk against him. He had to bite his bottom lip as he raised himself a bit to look down at your face. Your eyes were clenched as moans started coming out of your mouth, embarrassment no longer in you about those. He groans at the angry twitch of his dick. 

He licked his lips as he slowly started pressing both his fingers inside of you, stretching you, preparing you. You gasped when he got them inside of you in one move, eyes opening to see him looking down at you with a fucked out look on his face. Your eyes were teary because of the pleasure, face, and body burning up in a thousand degrees. 

“Eds…” You called him out as he pulled his fingers back out and then in again, the palm of his hand slamming against your clit, making your back arch at it as he kept repeating the action, his pace increasing. You could hear the squelching now, making you slightly embarrassed but the pleasure he is giving you right now completely overshadows it.

“Yeah, baby?” You whimpered at the nickname, loving the way it sounded in his mouth, the nickname you always fantasized about. Imagining his voice saying it to you in random moments, but mostly in these kinds of situations, where he was slowly breaking you apart.

“P-Please–” What were you begging for? You didn’t know. You weren’t that talkative during sex, but… you wanted Eddie to know, or hear you, anything. Just let him know you were feeling good. You gasped a moan out when his fingers curled, the squelching becoming even nastier, filthier, but he was hitting that spot that you sometimes have a hard time figuring out. “O-Oh fuck–!”

“Found it.” He said with a smug smirk as he saw how you clenched your eyes again, moaning louder, one of your hands shooting out to grip the sheets while the other dug into his bicep, tightly. Your legs were shaking as he kept going, his fingers just making you clench around him, your pussy being filled and satisfied.

“I’m– more, more!” He was surprised by your words, not knowing if you were normally vocal or not, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. He groaned as he leaned down to your right nipple, engulfing it with his teeth and giving a soft pull, pressing his palm against your clit in order to move his hand up and down. His fingertips rub your G-spot while the heel of his hand rubs against your clit.

Your eyes widen at the new feeling. It was raw, rough, desperate, and he moaned against your skin as you started fluttering around him, the pressure building in your belly like never before. It was going quickly, a fire that was spreading, not letting you run away. You were almost crying out his name as you kept trembling underneath him. He pulled away from your nipple in order to hover over you, his nose nudging yours.

“You close, love?” You whined at the nickname as your hips met the thrust of his fingers. He gave you a soft kiss, the opposite of what he was doing in the lower part of your body. The elastic band was stretching and stretching, your belly contracting at the pressure. Your moans came out in sharp breaths, chest heaving up and down as now both your hands flew to his shoulders as your back arched against him.

“Yes– Yes– Eddie, Eddie, baby–” And the elastic band snapped while Eddie moaned at the nickname, the first time you called him that and not his name. Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers and he moaned with delight as you spasmed underneath him, his dick threatening to finally shoot his seed, not being able to hold it back anymore, but he held back, with all of his strength.

Your moan was loud, satisfaction rushing all over your body as you trembled, legs giving up almost. You felt his fingers still moving, helping you ride it out, until you slowly calmed down, a few twitches of your legs here and there. It was probably the best orgasm you received… for now. He slowed his movements as he stared down at you, a pleased smile on his face as you opened your eyes to look at him, your breaths heavy.

“So? How was that?” He cocked his head to the side as he gave you one more thrust and you whined at the overstimulation, your hips moving away slightly and he got the clue so he pulled his fingers out of you. You looked at how he took his hand out of your underwear, the wet fingers grazing your pelvis slightly and you looked at how he raised his fingers to his mouth and your eyes widened.

“You–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence when his fingers entered his own mouth. No person had ever done that to you. So eager to taste you that they licked their fingers with so much delight. He moaned at the taste and he cursed at himself for not going down on you. But maybe he can have a small taste…

“Couldn’t help myself Kitty. Needed to know, and I am gonna grow addicted to it, I can already tell.” He raised himself back up on his knees and you looked down to see him still hard, and you winced with embarrassment.

“Let me do something Eddie–” He shook his head at you, his fingers digging into the elastic of your underwear, pulling it away. Your face flushed as you raised your hips up and– He will see it. What if it’s not pretty? What if there’s something he doesn’t like? Or too bushy, or maybe–

But as soon as your underwear is off, and you lay bare beneath him, he can’t help but tremble as his hand reaches his length. The number of times he had imagined you like this, there’s not even a way of counting them. It’s years of imagination, of dreams, of songs he wrote about your body. Songs you might not even know they’re about you. 

You didn’t know what to do as he stared down at you, wanting to close your legs but he was in between them. Your eyes widened when he scanned your body and he started to slowly stroke himself, just soft grazes. Was he touching himself by just looking at you? Did he do that before? Were you the protagonist of some dirty dreams he had?

He suddenly moves backwards, just three small movements with his knees, away from you. You tilt your head as you raise yourself on your elbows to look at him. His body bends down and your eyes widen when his eyes cannot leave your center, wetness all around, and he just looks drunk. 

“I’m sorry, can’t help myself…” It was his soft mumble as he gave a pointed lick in between your folds, and you groaned as your hips bucked towards him. He moaned as he gathered some of your juices, gulping them down and straightening again. 

Your eyes locked again, and the need was worse than it ever was before. The desire burning you both alive. It prompted Eddie to move quickly from in between your legs, his knees guiding him slightly to the side so he could reach over and open the drawer of his night table. You turned your head to watch how he took an unopened box of condoms. 

He cursed when he couldn’t open it from how nervous he suddenly got. He was finally going to get what he had always wanted, and now that it’s here… His thoughts were cut off when he felt your soft hands engulfing his, taking the box in your grasp, thumb pressing onto one edge to pop it open. 

He gave you a smile, a fond, caring one, and took the box once more, pulling a foil out. He moved again, his hands gripping your knees that had closed slightly, reopening them with a tut as he placed himself in between. You looked at how he ripped the foil open with his teeth, throwing it somewhere, and then rolled the latex over himself. 

Your heart was on your throat now, knots of nerves inside of your belly, needing to simply detangle or explode. He looked down at you and crawled on top of you, his forearms coming to rest on either side of your head in order to support himself over your body. His nose nudged yours, a hum vibrating in his throat.

“You okay princess?” He asked and you sighed in delight, giving a small nod.

“Yeah… you?”

“I’m fucking nervous.” He admitted, no playfulness in his tone and it surprised you. “But I am also very excited.”

And you decided to be the one to diffuse the tension a little bit this time. You raised your hips and rubbed your center along his shaft, coating it with your wetness, making him groan and raise an eyebrow at you. A smirk played on your lips as you looked at your best friend.

“I can feel that alright.” And Eddie’s lips turned into a smile, his eyes filled with love just as much as yours were. One of his arms left the mattress to get in between you two, grabbing onto his cock, and rubbing the tip of it against your folds and clit, making you whimper. 

“Bratty little shit.” And his hips pressed in, his arm returning to the same position as before, and your mouths fell into an ‘o’ shape, a choked breath in your throats as he slowly thrusts himself inside of you, inch by inch. 

Electricity ran all over your body, on every nerve and artery, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You could feel it everywhere, every single thing in the world making sense for some reason. You didn’t care about anything else but him at this moment. Him and how he felt as he slowly filled you, finally, after so long. Your legs raised up, thighs pressing against his sides as the heels of your feet dug into his hips.

He moaned when half of his cock was already inside of you and he cursed when he felt himself twitch. He had to hold it back for a little longer, he needed this to be perfect. He needed to make this last, though, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time. He hoped it would be the first time of many.

His lips desperately pressed against yours as his hips kept pressing in, deeper and deeper and you wondered how much you could possibly take as he stretched you open, your wetness making it all a little easier. There was a small pressure, a little sting at the sudden intrusion but it was still so delicious.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you kissed him back, hands moving to his hair and you remembered the bun he had on. It was a little loose, and you wanted to see his mane all over his face, just like the Eddie you had been pining for since high school. You needed to see him like that as he made you scream his name.

Your fingers dug into his ponytail and started to yank, trying not to rip his hair when doing so. He winced a bit in between the kiss and you giggled, having some trouble in freeing his hair. He groaned and pulled away from the kiss, his hips stopping as his arm reached up and swatted your hand away in order to take the hairband off himself. 

You heard a few hairs being ripped out and you winced at the sound but he didn’t care as his curls fell down. Your eyes softened as you finally saw your Eddie. You loved his hair up, but… his hair down just reminded you of the first time you looked at him with different eyes. It was when it was getting longer after deciding to never let anyone give him a buzz cut ever again.

“Happy?” He asked and you giggled, his hair now all over his face and shoulders, falling on your face as well, making your cheeks tingle. You moved your hands to gather it up and pull it all over to one side only. He shook his head at you, fond eyes and a smile directed your way. “You shouldn’t have taken it off. It will be a little bothersome.”

“I wanted to… Your long hair is one of the things I love the most about you…” He tilted his head to the side as his eyes filled with confusion. 

“My hair?”

“Yeah… When you decided to let it grow, it’s when you turned into… you.” You smiled up at him, eyes filled with love and stars and he could see them all as his heart combusted inside of his chest. 

He can now truly absolutely believe that you were meant for him. No woman could make him feel the way you do. You love him with everything in you, he can see it in your eyes. You have loved him before his fame, and he cannot be more grateful to destiny for bringing you into his life. He will never be able to say thank you enough.

But his feelings made his body twitch, a sudden electric shock sent to his whole body as his hips moved by themselves. Your smile slowly vanished as your mouth fell into a breathless moan, eyes widening as he stared down at your face and how it slowly contorted. He needed to be fully inside of you, his feelings making his body take what it has been craving for so long.

You gasped as your head was thrown back against the pillow when his hips suddenly slammed against yours, making him bottom out and fill you entirely. He was big, a definite stretch, but god it felt wonderful. Right. Meant to be even as your back arched against him, his lips falling to your exposed neck, groaning against your skin as he kept himself from moving, letting you adjust and for his mind to help him not end this as soon as it started.

Your nails were digging into his shoulders for some grounding, your mind and heart racing and you felt everything a little too much. You gave a small groan as you pressed your back against the mattress once more, and his face raised up from your neck in order to look down at you. 

“I love you.” His words were not new, not anymore, yet they made your heart skip many beats now. The butterflies in your stomach exploded and you gave him a small smile. You opened your mouth in order to reply only for a moan of yours to occupy where your words should have been as his hips moved backwards and in again. 

“I– I love you Ed– ah!” You couldn’t even finish it correctly because as the first letter left your mouth, his movement quickened just a bit. His hips swayed back and forth, moving slowly still but you felt the drag of him against your walls. His face lowered, his elbows on each side of your head, his forearms and hands holding onto your head, fingers running through your scalp as he used that hold to keep himself up and for his hips to move faster.

His lips were against your cheek, and now the hit of skin against skin started being heard and you felt your whole body flush in embarrassment, or pleasure, or a mix of it all. Suddenly his breath hit your ear as he groaned at each thrust of his hips. He felt too good, and you felt your mind drifting away, further from consciousness, until you heard his words again.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He kept repeating them in your ear at each thrust his hips made, his fingers on your scalp as his chest rubbed against yours. You moaned when you felt his tip just graze your g-spot but not quite there yet. Your nails ran from his shoulders and down to his back, scratching him, and your eyes opened when you realized you hadn’t done your part of the deal yet.

So you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck as your nails dug even deeper into the skin and your mouth opened. Your lips latched onto his skin and he groaned, hips stuttering slightly at your possessiveness of him. He could feel the burning in his back and now, the one on the side of his throat as you marked him in two places of his body.

You knew he liked to get shirtless in his concerts, of course you did… And he can’t wait to show everyone, his fans, his band members, his team, his staff, what you did to him. What you are to him. What he is to you. To finally show everyone who owns him, in body and soul.

He felt you nibble, suck, lick, kiss, and he knew it was going to be a big mark, just like the one he left you. He pulled away from your ear and raised himself up on his hands in order to look down at you. Your eyes were glossy, just like your lips which are also plump from all the kissing you’ve done to his skin. He wants to devour you, a fire that had always been there, but now it was scorching hot, almost painful. 

So why hold back?

His hips draw back and strike against yours in a forceful thrust. It was deep, so fucking deep, that he couldn’t help but groan, almost growl at your tightness. A choked moan escaped you from the surprise and the sudden punch to your spongy spot. Your eyes met his, now clouded in a dark cloud of pleasure, hints of love and devotion here and there, but you could see that he needed to ruin you, take what is his.

Your fingers are on his biceps now as he literally, absolutely, starts railing you into the mattress, like a madman, as if it were his first time ever. Reckless, sloppy, harsh, but still perfected. The bed made the both of you bounce, helping the movements, and your moans turned into whimpers and cries of his name.

“Eddie–!” You didn’t even notice that drool was coming out from the corner of your mouth, not noticing how long you had your lips parted for your moans to come out. You saw how intensely he was looking at you, as if he were to try to remember each trace of your face. Nervousness invaded you as well as some kind of self-consciousness, not knowing if your face was scrunching too much due to the pleasure, making your eyes avert away.

“Oh no, I’m having none of that.” You felt his hand grip your jaw and turn your head so he could look at you once again. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could swear tears were beginning to threaten to leave your eyes. His hair was all over his shoulders, moving at the pace of his hips, sweat on his forehead and tattooed chest. He was gorgeous. He was so beautiful that it hurt.

Your moans were still coming out steadily out of your lips until his hips shifted, just slightly, and his thrusts were now in a more upward direction. Your G-Spot was being punched by the tip of his cock and your belly was turning deliciously at each movement. 

He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove to you that he is the only one you will ever need, that he is the only one that can make you feel this good. He took his time fingering you in order to know where your spot was correctly. He has a lot to learn about you, and you about him, but there will be other times for that. 

For now, he just wants to see you come undone underneath him.

“F-Fuck–Fuck!” Your right hand was holding the wrist that held your face, while the left one was still gripping his bicep. You wanted to scream, the pleasure being too much yet not enough, trying to reach that high once more. A smile appeared on his lips, and you dared to say that it looked evil, cheeky, snarky, cocky.

“Weird?” And that bastard– He was mocking you. He was mocking you for ever thinking that this would feel weird for the both of you, considering the years of friendship. You growled a bit at him, a warning which only made him chuckle as he kept pounding into you, a particular drag making him groan.

“S-Shut up!” And oh you sounded so amazing like this. Breathless, needy, frustrated, pleasured… It was a mixture of everything, and he needed more as he felt his dick twitch inside of you. He hasted his movements and you could only whine in question as your confused, glossy eyes looked up at him. 

He groaned with displeasure as he pulled out of you and let go of your face, kneeling up and moving backwards slightly. His hands came to your hips, and he motioned for you to the next position he desired, which made the blood completely leave your body. 

He wanted you on all fours. He would have a perfect view of everything. Every single spot of texture, every stretchmark, all of your cellulite… just everything. And the lights are still on. Fuck they’re still on. Your hands were not fast enough to stop him from using his strength in order to turn you around on the mattress, your legs flailing as you were now on your belly onto the mattress.

You opened your mouth, embarrassment already too deep, afraid of even turning your head to look at him. You didn’t want to see the scrunch on his face when he looked at your skin. You are no professional model, and you certainly don’t have the money for all the treatments they can afford on their skin. 

But what you didn’t expect was the ferocious bite you received on your left ass cheek, making you yelp. He was behind you, his hands digging on your hips in order to pull your ass up, getting you to press your knees on the mattress and finally be in a formal all fours. You were almost shocked at how easily he manhandled you, at how quick he was. You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and you clenched at the sight.

Eddie looked drunk as he looked at your behind. He was even stroking himself as he looked at you, careful to not roll the condom off. You were stunned, hands and knees on the bed as he kneeled behind you. One of his hands came to rub your left ass cheek, to then give it a slap, causing you to whimper and jump at the action. 

“Eddie!” 

“Fuck, look at you…” His hand left his dick, and now both of his palms were engulfing your ass, pressing tightly, digits digging urgently into the skin as his face leaned downwards in order to kiss the small of your back and then one cheek. Your face was on fire, but you didn’t know if it was embarrassment or shame anymore… you felt loved. You felt like a goddess. Eddie was making you feel like an absolute goddess.

A bite landed on your right ass cheek this time, gentle but enough to grab some skin and pull gently. He groaned desperately, needing to swallow you whole. You weren’t aware of the state you put him in. He was feral. You were perfect, so fucking perfect and he was gonna make damn sure you knew this.

“Eddie please…” You whined one more time and he gave a small nibble to your ass cheek. He can bite on them a bit more later on. He straightened up and guided the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance, and pushed right in once more. Not slow, yet not fast, just easily.

The two of you groaned with relief as he thrusted a few times, before fully bottoming out inside of you. He growled into his throat as he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. He is not going to last long, but he for sure was not going to end this without you clenching around his cock.

His hands are now on your waist, gripping your skin in order to guide himself in and out of you, the smacking of hips now echoing once more around the room. He looked at how your ass jiggled underneath him as his hips hit you. He was smirking, a small smack landing on one of your cheeks, making you yelp in between your moans.

He felt you clench a few times, and he cursed into the sky as he had to get a hold of himself so he wouldn’t spill too fast.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight Kitty– You gonna cum for me?” A dumb ‘Uh-Huh’ was heard from you as you nodded as best as you could. Your arms and legs were trembling, the squelching of your juices with his thrusts a little too loud. It should shame you, but it’s the whole contrary now. You want him to know just how wet you were for him. How good he is making you feel right now, emotionally and physically.

“Y-Yeah Eds, yeah, please–” And you didn’t have to ask twice. His right hand left your hip and guided it underneath, reaching your clit with his index and middle finger. You gasped as your belly suddenly turned at the attention. “FUCK!” 

“I know baby, I know…” You whimpered at the nickname as his fingers moved on your sensitive nub, while his dick kept hitting your spot in a perfect rhythm. Your mouth was open, sometimes moans came out, sometimes only drool, but you couldn’t close it. Your pussy clenched around him, making him wince and curse under his breath. “Fucking shit…”

“Baby, baby–” You were warning him and he nodded with determination, his dick twitching inside of you until he saw stars at the same time you did. “EDDIE–!” 

Your walls clenched tightly around him, your legs trembling as your belly exploded with bursts of heat. He didn’t stop the rubbing of your clit, making you choke some moans out, wanting to move away from his grip, but he held you tightly in place so you wouldn’t stop the ride of your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck– holy shit–!” And he groaned loudly, almost whimpering at how hard he came inside of the condom. He gave a few hard thrusts at each spurt of his cum, making you whine at the last strides of your own climax. Soon, your walls slowly unclenched, legs trembling ever so slightly, and his hand left your clit.

The two of you were panting, completely breathless from the lovemaking that just occurred. He took a sharp intake of breath as he slowly pulled out of you, making him wince and you whimper at the loss of him. You immediately flopped on the bed, face hitting the pillow. He chuckled a bit hoarsely and took off the condom, tying it off and looking around.

You turned your head in order to catch him in time, a frown appearing on your face as you turned to your side so you could point a finger at him.

“Don’t you dare throw it on the floor.” He raised an eyebrow at you and then a fond smile appeared on his lips. The two of you were covered in sweat, your breaths slowly leveling out again, a sight he never thought would occur. 

“You gonna boss me around in my own home Kitty?” You rolled your eyes at him and he smiled, getting up from the bed on wobbly legs. “Woah–” You covered your mouth in order not to laugh, but he only glared at you as he straightened up once more.

“Sorry–”

“Yeah, I wanna see how you get up from the bed. Come on.” You shook your head and immediately crawled underneath his sheets, covering yourself completely, and hiding from him. He chuckled at that and threw the used condom on his trashcan to then almost sprint to the bed and jump on top of it, making you bounce and yelp on the side you were on.

It made the sheets move away slightly, uncovering you from the waist up. Eddie looked down at you. Your hair was a mess, your makeup smudged… but fuck you were so beautiful. All of you. And you were now his.

“You’re mean…” He chuckled at you and got inside the sheets as well, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you on top of him, making you giggle.

“I’m anything but that…” He bit his lip and then cleared his throat as nerves filled his body once more. He was a rockstar, yet you made him more nervous than any concert he ever played in his life. “Kitty… I want– I want you. Like, I want this to be official.”

And that was the other part of this love that you were afraid of. Official? With Eddie? You?

“I–” You gulped as shame coursed through your body. “I am– no one, Eddie… I am not famous or– I mean, you might lose fans if we come out as official…” 

And when you looked at Eddie’s eyes, you saw them become doe-eyed, a sad frown appearing on his eyebrows, as he looked at your face. A hand came up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you sigh. 

“Baby, I’ve been wanting you for god knows how long… I don’t care what happens to my reputation… and if my fans are truly my fans, they should be happy that I finally got the chick I’ve been singing about for the past two years.” 

Your heart felt like it melted with his words. Your eyes were tracing his face, the shape of his eyes, his nose, his lips. Every expression he did out of happiness or excitement, was because of you now. He definitely loves you, doesn’t he?

“You– Will you show me which songs were the ones about me?” You smile cheekily at him, and he raises an eyebrow at you, grips your hip slightly in warning and you can’t help but giggle.

“Yes, only if you’re mine.” 

And this wasn’t the last you’ve seen about the lack of confidence, you knew that. But there is something you are definitely, most certainly, confident about. Eddie Munson loves you, with everything in him, and wants you desperately.

“Deal.” A cheeky smile appears on his lip and you give him a pointed frown. “Apologize to Steve.”

And his smile faded, tilting his nose up.

“Never.”

You’ve got one cocky little rockstar of a boyfriend.

end

a/n: orange peel skin is what we call the skin when it looks pitted, formed by cellulite most of the times.

i hope you all enjoyed this little thing (not so little)

always reblog your artists

[5sospenguinqueen]

Pocket Money | Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: Since the start of the relationship, fans have been convinced you're only with Lance for his money. When he mentions your future in an interview, they accuse you of trying to baby trap him.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst but mostly just for sadness. Hateful fans.

Female reader with various facelaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

A bit different to the other three.

Main Masterlist

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by lancestroll, chloestroll and others

YourUserName lovely london was kind enough to be sunny for me this weekend 🇬🇧

2,385 comments

chloestroll i’m still so jealous that you didn’t take me

→ YourUserName yes but if i had, i’d have spent the entire time trying to stop you from running off with a brit. i doubt scotty would appreciate that

→ scottyjames31 do NOT let her run off with a british man

→ YourUserName make sure you behave yourself then

User1 oh, so she’s on yet another holiday funded by her sweet, naive boyfriend who can’t tell he’s with a gold digger

User2 that’s it sweetheart. post pics of your trip that your boyfriend undoubtedly paid for whilst he’s busy racing all weekend without your support

User3 she’s quite possibly the worst wag. give the role to someone who would enjoy being there

→ User4 it’s not a fucking role, sweetheart. being someone’s fiancée is not a role you play, and i think y/n happens to do an amazing “part”

danielricciardo bring me back some crunchies

→ YourUserName no, i got into trouble last time. your trainer told me that you’re not allowed them

→ danielricciardo boo, you whore

User5 so she’s on yet another weekend away in london the same weekend that lance is racing in jeddah? can she make it anymore obvious that she doesn’t support him?

→ User6 her job means she has to travel a lot - just like lance - so unfortunately she cannot follow him around the world

→ User7 you tell ‘em, honey. y/n is a successful businesswoman but everyone seems to forget that? she makes every race when she can but sometimes she can’t get out of work

→ User8 at the end of the day, their relationship is none of our business

astonmartinf1 missing your face in the paddock this weekend

→ YourUserName i miss you too! although i bet nando is enjoying the peace and quiet

→ astonmartinf1 can neither confirm nor deny but he did mention something about yapping

User9 the sunset behind big ben is beautiful

User9 this is so cute. the way his whole face lights up when he’s asked about/talks about her

User10 not lance revealing that y/n would run away and marry him just to call him her husband

→ User11 yes! but he’s so dedicated to giving her the wedding she wanted since she was a child. these two have my whole entire heart 🥰

User12 ugh, where can i get a lance stroll? the way he loves his fiancee 😍 and not him being desperate to have babies with her

User13 so is this confirmation that y/n is pregnant? like, if he wants a baby in a year, then..?

→ User14 wouldn’t surprise me. if they get married, he can still make her sign a prenup and divorce her without a worry, but a baby would tie him to her for life so she can continue to spend his money

→ User15 okay but i’m with you on this. it’s the best way to ensure she can keep him around in some way because let’s be honest, their relationship doesn’t seem the best

→ User9 what the fuck is wrong with you two. where in that entire interview were you getting the impression their relationship is on the rocks? he’s literally planning an entire life with her???

→ User15 yeah and where is she? unbothered in london. she’s only with him for the money and that’s the only reason why they’re engaged.

→ User13 they’re engaged because they love each other! he’s also the one who said he wants her to have his children so he can keep her home????

→ User14 no they’re engaged because for some reason, he’s infatuated with her and she’s only using him, and she’s clearly tricked him into wanting children without realising that’s further entrapment

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourBrother just posted

liked by danielricciardo, yourbestfriend and others

YourBrother when sprout takes time out of her busy life to visit, Nonna cooks a whole feast (can you tell who the favourite is) tagged: YourUserName

879 comments

YourCousin the only reason we look forward to y/n coming home is because nonna feeds us GOOD

→ YourCousin2 agreed, nothing to do with us missing y/n at all

→ YourUserName this is why i left 😂😭

User1 anyone else find it odd that she’s in a different country again on race weekend? i mean, i know her and lance were still a couple last month but i’m starting to wonder if that’s changed

→ User2 she’s also not been active on socials despite that being part of her job description?

→ User3 can you blame her when everyone constantly hates on her

→ User4 being on media isn’t part of her job, she just liked to share her adventures with us and some of you arseholes ruined that.

User5 oh my gosh, her parents are so cute together. i want to be like that when i’m older

→ User6 and her brother and SIL curled up in the chair together. this family really do produce the cutest couples

→ User7 looks like the only absent spouse is lance :(

→ User8 um because he’s currently in china? he has more important things to be doing??

User9 i love that her brother's first idea to cheer her up is to give her beer

→ User10 well, at least we know she’s not pregnant currently

→ User11 thank god. we know lance is free from her in that aspect

→ User9 seriously? making these comments on twitter wasn't bad enough, you people are actually commenting on her BROTHER’s instagram

(Comments have been disabled for this post)

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by estebanocon, YourUserName and others

astonmartinf1 our first race back in shanghai sees a p7 finish for fernando with the fastest lap. lance comes home in p15 after contact earlier in the race

1,443 comments

User12 woohoo, go nando

User13 nando could get the wdc if you got him a better car and a better teammate

User14 literally give the seat to anyone other than lance stroll please

User15 can we all stop hating on lance, please? it was an accident, they happen

User16 not him blaming danny ric. sweetie, the car has brakes for a reason

User17 danny ric was fuming but also seemed like he was trying not to be

→ User18 no literally. it was like he was trying not to say something but in one interview slipped up and said that lance has been really distracted due to issues at home

→ User19 i saw that! and the way he ran away after like ‘oo the team is calling me’

→ User20 are we smelling a breakup?

User1 i personally think lance stroll shouldn’t be in f1 but can we take a moment to think that whilst it was really bad driving, he’s not been himself lately? he looks really sad in all the media things

→ User2 literally, like he’s constantly coming under hate for his fiancée, and then she hasn’t been to any races recently and he’s not talked about wedding planning once. this is the man who was telling everyone about his wedding even if they didn’t ask

→ User3 maybe he realised that his girlfriend was a gold digging bitch

→ User4 literally. he talked about having children with her and then realised that meant she’d never leave

→ User5 you people are actually crazy. how do you turn a man talking about wanting children into the woman he loves trying to baby trap him? y/n has never talked about wanting kids

→ User6 this. like i definitely think they’ve broken up but for all we know, it could be that lance was talking about children and y/n realised she wasn’t ready/didn’t want them.

User7 can’t believe people are still running the baby narrative. we know nothing about their relationship because they’re quite a private couple - and after this, we can see why - and yet people have somehow created a whole drama about babies from nothing

User8 i know lance is one of the more private f1 drivers but i really think he needs to comment on this? the amount of hate y/n is getting is insane and shouldn’t be ignored

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by estebanocon, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName the view from my office is better than yours. sorry, not sorry

863 comments

BestFriend i’m looking for a woman in finance, trust fund

→ YourUserName you know you’re welcome to my trust fund anytime

→ BestFriend the best sugar mommy i’ve ever had

YourBrother congratulations on your promotion, shithead. one step away from ceo!

User1 wait why did no one tell me she was running a company?

→ User2 babe, we’ve been telling you bitches this from the start! but none of you listened

chloestroll congratulations, business barbie 💕

→ YourUserName thank you, music barbie 🤍

→ User3 so chloe is still here? does that mean we’re still getting a wedding

→ User4 idk. lance isn’t in the likes..?

→ User5 @ chloestroll please tell us what you know. Some of us are rooting for them to end up together

User6 so she goes radio silent for three months just to come back and pretend like she has a job? nothing about the man she supposedly loves?

→ User7 seems shady to me. you got caught out for being a gold digger so now you’re going to act like you actually go to work?

→ User8 i really hate people like you

→ User9 you know nothing about her and lance so how about we stop making shit up? lance isn’t going to see your comments and think i’m gonna shag this random person

→ User10 oh yeah like you know much more than we do. bitch

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Baby Fever Angst Series

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version

Charles’ Version

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @elijahslover @gaypoetsblog @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @raizelchrysanderoctavius @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @leclercsluvs @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane

[daisynik7]

Nanami is so touch starved after just a weekend without you.

He picks you up from the airport after a quick trip with your friends. “Hi sweetie!” you greet him, kissing him on the cheek before loading the trunk with your luggage. “I missed you.”

At first, he plays it cool, muttering a quiet, “I missed you too.” When you’re both inside, you give him a full kiss on the lips, letting your tongue tease the inside his mouth, nothing more. It’s almost dinnertime; tonight, you’re supposed to meet his family for their weekly homecooked meal, a little tradition you started when you got married. If you head there now, you’ll make it just in time. 

Nanami, however, has other plans. 

“Let’s drop your things off at home,” he insists, driving slightly over the speed limit. You eye him suspiciously, but don’t question it, especially when you notice him adjust his pants in his seat, the bulge very obviously strained against the fabric. Once he pulls into the driveway, he rushes out of the car, grabbing your suitcase, hustling to unlock the door. You try not to laugh, aware of why he’s behaving this way. Within seconds of being inside, he’s all over you. Hands on your waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hungry and needy, his mouth salivating across the skin of your neck. He kicks his shoes off hastily, leading you straight into the bedroom, not wanting to waste another second. He undresses quickly, revealing the precum already sticky inside his briefs. You tease him about it, only for him to admit, “I’ve been like this since I saw you. I can’t wait any longer. Please, honey.”

Not wanting to torment him further, you give him exactly what he wants. Stripped naked, you spread your cheeks open for him, coaxing him. “Go ahead, then. Use me like your fucking cock sleeve.” He goes feral, fucking you into the mattress with your head buried in the pillow, moaning his name over and over. You shake your ass back and forth on his cock to reach your orgasm, his fingers massaging your swollen clit until you're gushing around him. “You feel incredible, sweetheart,” he coos, watching you swallow him up with each thrust. “I missed you so much.”

Drool trickles down the sides of your lips. “Missed you too,” you whine, still working his cock. He hammers into your slick cunt, not stopping until he fills you up with the load he’s been saving for you all week. 

When you finally arrive to his parent’s house, Nanami apologizes for being late, an innocent smile on his face with his hand pressed lovingly to your back. You squeeze your legs together, pussy clenched to keep his cream pie stuffed inside you. He’s not quite finished with you yet.